The other Smoak girl
by thegirlwhocan
Summary: Canon as of 2x18. With Slade waging war on Starling, all of team Arrow are feeling the strain and starting to tear at the seams. In between the arguments, they have to fight the city's criminals - until a dark figure begins to follow Felicity, and the team have to pull together to catch a shadow. GOES THROUGH TO JL BUT FOCUSES ON ARROW CHARACTERS.
1. To start a war

**A/N:**_first Arrow fic, so any feedback good or bad is appreciated. I'm going to try and update every day or two. Canon as of 2x18 with one exception - Laurel doesn't know. Everything else is the same as canon. Enjoy!_

* * *

'To start a war'

"Oliver? Answer me! Please, Oliver!" Felicity Smoak stood in the foundry, heart in her mouth and hand on her ear, desperately waiting for an answer on the other end. It was always the same – the others went out on missions, leaving her here, helpless to do anything but watch them take on the deadliest of Starling City's criminals. She had her screens and computers, nothing else. Most of her nights were spent waiting on a crackle on the other end of the line.

Not that she complained. Felicity knew she wouldn't be any use in a fight anyway, and was grateful to help in any way she could. Her old life seemed so pointless now, before team Arrow and the nights spent down here with friends. What had she lived for? At least she could make a difference doing this.

But on nights like this, when their plans fell apart, she really hated her job. Since Slade had hijacked that bus of criminals en-route to the prison things had been getting worse: he had appointed them different jobs in the city, from smuggling drugs to stealing to killing people, all of which accounted for a lot more bust nights for her team. Slade had sent them a wave of crime, undoing all the good work they'd done before – but they were fighting back.

Tonight they had gone after a gang of bank robbers who'd been picking their way through Starling. Ollie, Diggle and Sara, that is. Roy was still keeping his distance, pissed about a lot of things, most of all his break-up. He'd come around eventually, she knew it; a broken heart just took time. Felicity had taken to purposely bumping into him to ask how he was and trying to convince him to come back, as she was the only one Roy would let anywhere near him recently.

What they hadn't planned on was the gang including a psychotic ex-murderer by the name of Jonathan Mallory. He had been in the fight and managed to gain the upper hand, and three minutes ago the cameras of the bank had blurred out in a blast, leaving Felicity in the dark. She didn't know what was happening to her friends, and a bubble of panic started to rise in her chest.

"Ollie?"

"I'm here."

At the words, relief crossed over Felicity's face, eyes closing as a heavy breath escaped her. Oliver was okay. She felt her body slump forwards until her hand pressed against the cold steel table in front of her, computer screen still crackling with the dead camera feed, only held up by her hand curling around the edge, holding her steady. "What about the others?"

"They're fine," came the voice from the com. She could hear Ollie putting on his best 'reassuring' voice, low tone filling her ears, but he sounded strained. They all were wearing thin; trying their best to handle the situation, but it was getting harder. "We won, Felicity. We won."

"Then why doesn't it feel like we did?"

* * *

The problem with more and more crime was that it took up more and more of their time.

"Oliver!" Felicity shouted down the phone as soon as she stepped outside the front door of the courthouse. It was getting late, the sun begging to set in the distance, so she pulled at her coat, the chill in the air causing her skin to erupt into goose bumps. It was a joke, no, _he_ was a joke. What was he thinking? This wasn't just something he could brush off – Isabelle had stolen his company, and they were trying to get Queen's Consolidated back – which would be easier if Ollie actually showed up for court dates. "Where are you?"

There was a heavy sigh on the end of the line. "Something came up."

"And you didn't think to call? Not even a text! I'm at the courthouse by myself with Isabelle eyeing me up like she's about to kill me, a handful of lawyers trying to get _you_ your company back breathing down my neck, and a judge who's about to drop the case because of us wasting his time! I needed you here!"

"Hey," Oliver said, and instantly Felicity felt herself relax. She had been getting erratic, ranting down the phone, and all it took was that one word to ground her. But she was still angry – Oliver might not care about the company, but she did. She had worked too hard this year to keep it going to watch Isabelle ruin it, not to mention her job was now on the line. It was hard to be the CEO's assistant when he gets himself fired. And Oliver didn't seem to care, "I thought this was more important, okay?"

"It isn't. Whatever it is, I asked you for an hour or two of your time – one day! I don't ask you for much, I deal with your work, your meetings, I organised this case – all you had to do was show up. _This_ is important, too."

"There was some-"

"-Arrow business?" Felicity hissed sharply down the phone, sensing an argument brewing. She was standing on the front steps in her best grey suit, hair up in a tight ponytail and glasses on, a file under her arm. She had been preparing for this for days. And Oliver forgets her – again. He had been throwing himself too much into the Arrow for the past few weeks, since Thea had been kidnapped and Slade had started an open war against Starling and the Arrow. At first, they had understood, but recently he'd been getting . . . obsessive. He didn't even seem to care that his family business had basically been stolen, despite her best efforts to get him to understand. "Yeah, I know. It always is."

"It's not my fault!" Oliver shouted on the other end of the line, finally raising his voice. "Why can't you understand that all I'm doing is saving lives? That's more important than pointlessly standing in front of some half-assed lawyers for a day."

"To you, maybe. But what about to the thousands of working at Queen's Consolidated who might lose their jobs if Isabelle decides to close the company and you can't stop her? Oh, like _me_ – in case you've forgotten! We can't all live off trust funds. This was important too, and you blew it off again!"

"I prioritised."

"You seem to be forgetting that if you want to keep being the Arrow, you have to keep your secret identity" she said, standing taller. "If you lose the company, you lose everything. And I would have done it all for you, all you had to do was show up – but now you can fix your own mess, I'm going home."

Oliver's tone turned cold. "And you seem to be forgetting who you're talking to."

"Please, I'm terrified" Felicity snapped sarcastically, meeting his ice with her own frost, and ended the call. Before he could call back, she turned off her phone completely, throwing it back into her back with a muted scream of annoyance. Although she glanced apprehensively back at the courthouse, debating for a moment whether to carry on with the case by herself, she thought about the laughing faces of the lawyers and judge at Oliver Queen's pathetic assistant, trying to take on people all by herself, and instantly felt sick. Oliver could deal with them later.

Turning, Felicity gathered up her back and folder and dashed away from the courthouse, taking a little pride in knowing they'd be waiting for her, stuck in the boiling courtroom. Her face twisted into a tiny smile, just for herself, but then she remembered Oliver's words and just how angry she was at him, and the smile froze on her face, becoming a grimace. She didn't like arguing with him at the best of times, but with the added pressure of the rising crime and Slade and the fact she was about to lose her job, the fight couldn't have come at a worse time. Guts twisting about, Felicity ducked her head down, biting her lip, and walked down the dusty pavements of the city, heading in the general direction of her house. She figured she would take a long walk home to calm down, maybe pick up some mint choc-chip ice cream and a coffee from the nice vender on the corner of the street where the Queen's Consolidated building was, as strangely she was oddly upset at the thought that if she lost her job, she would have no reason to stop there every morning for her favourite cappuccino and Oliver's plain black order. It was a familiar routine, all lying in the balance.

As Oliver hadn't been to the office in days, neither had she, apart from the pick up a few of her personal belongings from her desk. If she had left them there, she just had the strange idea that Isabelle would have burned them, or dropped them from the 31st floor window. This would be her first drink from there in a while, and might be her last for an even longer while, too. It was bittersweet when she stopped at the shiny green vender-van and ordered her drink, her gaze drifting to the nearby QC building, a place that was almost her second home . . .

Sadly, she leaned against the counter, putting her head in her hand. Her blonde head tilted as her eyes followed the dark windows of the building all the way up to the sky, a muted indigo because of the lateness of the day. The traffic was quiet because of the hour, too, the only thing holding back the night's dark being the few streetlamps and office lights. The city was beautiful at this time of night; some nights she would stay as late as she could at Queen's Consolidated just for the view from her window at sunset, when they greyness of the city faded to all these little lights. She would miss that.

"I haven't seen you in a few days . . ." said the owner of the vendor, accent soft like a song, who over years she had gotten to know quite well through small talk, Carlos. He earned little from this cart and had a family in the glades. Carlos also laughed at all of her jokes about working for Oliver, and always served her with a smile, occasionally giving her a free cookie or something if she looked like she was having a bad day. He didn't phrase it as one, but there was a question in his words.

"Things have been . . . a little rough recently," Felicity answered, turning to speak to him with a tired smile. "I might not have a job for much longer."

Carlos frowned, "what happened?"

"Power-hungry hussy and a league of super-evil took over."

Carlos laughed at her sarcasm, not taking it for the literal truth that it was. "You'll be fine – if you can deal with Mr. Queen on a daily basis, you can deal with this too."

Felicity huffed a laugh in return, "Oliver I can deal with because I understand how he works. This is a new enemy entirely."

Although he frowned at her odd choice of words, Carlos was distracted as the coffee machine behind him whizzed as it boiled. Starting at the sudden noise, he turned his back on her to finish making her coffee. As he did, Felicity stood a little straighter, in doing so noticing something out of the corner of her eye – a dark figure standing at the mouth of an alley across the street. Feeling watched, she turned suddenly to get a better view but by the time she'd blinked and twisted, the figure was gone, vanished into thin air.

Fear spiked in her chest then, foreign and malignant. Someone had been watching her – but who? And why? With Slade waging his war against them, he seemed like an obvious answer, which meant he was coming for her. She should have known this was coming really: she was a member of the team and close to Oliver, so of course that painted a target on her back.

But it could also be nothing, she thought. An imagined figure from a shadow and the near-constant worry she was living in. So Felicity Smoak did something she knew was probably stupid, and crossed the street quickly, heading for the alley. Sneaking against the wall, she got to the mouth of the alley, a gaping dark hole in the street, and paused to take a breath. This was reckless, and so unlike her – but she was angry, and if someone was following her she needed to know.

She counted to three in her head and then stepped forwards to look into the alley.

It was empty. Sighing with relief and frustration at getting worked up over nothing, Felicity saw that in the alley there was nothing but a dumpster and lots of trash. It was a dead end, too, a brick wall facing her, dirty but definitely enough to stop any stalkers. Nobody could walk through walls, so there was never anyone there to begin with, she was just imagining things.

Shaking her head, she started walking back towards the vendor's cart across the street. But then a sound rang out behind her sharply and Felicity ducked on instinct, twisting to look for the source – and it was then that she saw the dingy, rusting fire escape snaking up the side of the alley for the building next door. A getaway. The sound had come from it, somewhere high up, but by the time she looked, whatever made the sound was gone. It could have been nothing – a cat, something falling from a window, the wind. Yet with the figure she may have seen, it was sinister, and re-lit the fear inside her. Felicity didn't know what to think.

"Is something wrong?" Carlos asked, handing her the coffee she had ordered when she eventually crossed back over to the vendor, not wanting to leave the circle of soft orange light from inside the cart. It was safe, familiar, and outside suddenly seemed so dangerous in the night-time she used to love. She was pale, shaking slightly as her thin hands wrapped around the warm cup, and he worried.

"It's -" Felicity trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence. She looked over her shoulder, finding no one there, no demons waiting to catch her if she walked away. "It's nothing."

With what she hoped passed for a smile, Felicity grabbed her coffee and left, walking quickly. She was desperate to be off the streets, safe in her little apartment. Her heels clicked against Starling cement and she looked over her shoulder the whole way home, trying to convince herself that it was all in her head so she could sleep that night. She didn't.

* * *

"Are you okay?" Diggle sat down on her desk in the Foundry as Oliver and Sara fought behind them, practising with the long, staff-like sticks Sara was known for and basically knocking the crap out of each other. Felicity flinched up at the words, but shook her head.

"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

"You look tired."

"Thanks, Digg."

"You know what I mean," he chucked warmly, glancing over his shoulder, "is this about your fight with Oliver? 'Cause I know you've fought before and neither of you is likely to back down, but you shouldn't let it bother you."

"Not everything revolves around Oliver" Felicity said, rolling her eyes. She hadn't told them about her suspicions that she was being followed yet, despite another two days of familiar incidents. She was starting to get irritable and jumpy and work, fear creeping under her skin, but didn't want to run to Oliver for help. Telling Diggle would be no use either – he'd tell Ollie right away. So she forced a smile, although it was tight-lipped and fake. Felicity got to her feet and crossed the room to look at a different screen, pulling up some substance analysis she'd been running and seeing that it was still being processed. That meant it would be another few hours, and could wait until tomorrow.

"Felicity," Diggle caught up to her and caught her arm. "You know you can talk to me if something was bothering you, right?"

He looked concerned, and she was touched by it, smiling more genuinely.

"It might be nothing, but I've just had this odd feeling for the past few days" she admitted, not strictly saying she felt like she was being followed because it sounded crazy. To her surprise, Diggle nodded sagely.

"War-jitters. I got them all the time when I first got to Afghanistan. I think the proper term for it is 'hyper-vigilance', if what that shrink they forced me to see when I got back told me right. It's the feeling that things are about to go wrong, all the time – you start preparing for the worst." Diggle explained calmly, and Felicity listened intently. Maybe he was right, and this was all in her head, created by worry. She kind of hoped it was true.

"So . . . what do I do to stop it?"

"You don't" Diggle said sadly, and she wondered how much he suffered and said nothing. John Diggle might just be the best of them. "You live with it. I still do. But I think that this time, it's because of Slade. I think that Oliver might have scared us all with his stories, and how we're all scared stiff of a ghost." He smiled kindly at her, before it stretched into a grin. "Don't be, Felicity. Nothing's going to happen to you, I promise. But the best way I know to calm the nerves is a big belly burger."

"Digg-"

"Nope, I've decided. Burgers on me" John smiled, offering her his arm.

"You're a live saver."

"Oh, I know" Diggle laughed, and they both shouted goodnight over their shoulders as they left. When only Sara shouted goodbye back, Felicity tried to ignore the twist in her stomach at the thought of Oliver still being mad at her. But forced on a smile as her and Diggle went to dinner, trying to laugh throughout the night. She only jumped once when she thought she'd seen a figure in the window, then told herself that it was just this 'hyper-vigilance'.

* * *

By Friday, Felicity was sure she was being followed, and was ready to do something about it

* * *

_Please review! :)  
_


	2. The Shadow

'The Shadow'

The next time Felicity had suspected she was being followed was a few days after that, when she had heard footsteps following her from the Foundry as she was leaving, only to turn and find no one there. Then it had been the shadow on the staircase of her building, the figure on the rooftop she had seen from her window, the constant shadow on her tail. She couldn't have imagined all of it.

Paranoia had been a new thing for her, and not a pleasant one. So used to being safe with Oliver and Diggle, so to feel to exposed was a rare moment for her, like being thrown into ice water after sitting in a steam room for months. Felicity was looking over her shoulder all of the time, not feeling secure enough even in her own home to relax; she hadn't slept in days. Things were still cold between her and Oliver, at that moment in time they only spoke to each other when necessary, usually about missions, and even then it was always too formal and forcibly polite. He was too mad to notice the dark circles under her eyes, she was too pissed off with him to go running to him for help. So she went to Sara instead.

"Night, Digg" she said as she left, touching his arm affectionately as she passed towards the metal staircase.

"Goodnight, Felicity" John Diggle, as always, was genuine and earnest in his reply, smiling benignly at her. He sat on a table as Oliver paced irritably, the main reason for Felicity's early exit. It would stop her from sniping at him about wearing a hole in the carpet of she wasn't there.

But once she'd gotten upstairs she did not leave through the side door and head home like she usually did, instead pushing open the door to the main club. The sound hit her like a wave, loud and pulsing, as well as the heat from inside. It was busy as it always was, the dance floor heaving with people all out for a good time, but Felicity ignored all of them, keeping her head down as she crossed the sticky floor to get to the bar where she could see Sara pouring drinks.

"Can I speak to you?" Felicity asked, taking a seat at the counter, and the other lady turned to her in surprise. Sara had been working the night shift at Verdant while the others did their secret work downstairs, waiting for her shift to end to see the others. At seeing Felicity so openly up here, looking out of place in her blue work dress among the glamour of their usual patrons, Sara's eyebrows quirked up before she called someone over to cover the bar while she spoke to her friend.

"Sure," Sara shouted over the music, pulling up a stool on her side of the bar and sitting opposite the other girl. It was only then she noticed that it wasn't just the bright lights making Felicity look washed out – she looked ill, tired, and her hands tapped the bar nervously. Leaning over, Sara put a hand over Felicity's, holding them still, and the other girl met her eyes. "What is it?"

"I think someone's following me" Felicity blurted out.

"What do you mean?"

"I keep hearing things – footsteps or crashes. Sometimes I see this . . . shadow, but when I look – it's gone. I don't know if I'm crazy or . . ."

"You're not crazy" Sara said, "I know you're not. I believe you. When did this start?"

"A few days ago -"

"Days?" Sara said in a loud outburst, "and you didn't say anything?"

Felicity shrugged, feeling guilty under Sara's gaze and dropping her own to her lap. "I didn't want anyone to worry. Plus, Ollie's been acting like a -"

"Jerk?"

"Yeah" the IT whiz agreed with a tiny smile, matched by Sara, who squeezed her hands reassuringly. "I just didn't want to go to him when he's acting like this. Can you help me? Just you?"

"I -" Sara paused, torn between not wanting to lie to Ollie and wanting to help her friend, who looked so terrified. Then she nodded, and a looked of relief passed over Felicity's face. "I will."

"Thank you."

Sara stood up, "Let's go catch ourselves a shadow."

* * *

It took another three days of Sara following Felicity around, trying to follow the follower, for the shadow to slip up and be seen. Whoever it was, they were good. It was only because Sara was better that she even caught a glimpse, as Felicity cut through a park on her way home one night. Seeing the open space as an opportunity, Sara had climbed the nearest tree nimbly for a better vantage point, silently coming to a rest among the leaves, years of training making her invisible in the night.

From there, she watched her friend's progress across the walkway through the sparsely placed trees, lit up by the lamps along the path. The city was still buzzing around them, as out of fear Felicity had started leaving for home before it got too dark or late. Sara waited, hoping to catch a glimpse of the shadow, who she had heard by now but never seen. It paid off.

Below her, at the edge of the park, she saw the darkness shift a little, and from a patch of blackness between the trees a figure emerged being swallowed up by the next shadow along in seconds. Sara held her breath, unbelieving that their mystery figure was finally showing themselves, but stayed still, watching. She needed to know what level of criminal she was up against: petty pervert or one of Slade's assassins. Focusing, Sara observed the shadow, lips turning down as she did, impressed. The person moved quickly but quietly, not quite silent like she was but pretty damn close, even among the crunchy leaves going undetected by Felicity, who continued walking obliviously. They worked with the darkness, almost like they were capable of bending it to their purpose, using it as cover as it blended and formed around them, allowing them to pass through unseen. Only a foot out of place or space of light let Sara see their progress. It was impressive – and worrying.

Sara slipped down the tree without a sound, in her Black Canary gear and pulling her bar from her waistband as she walked towards the edge of darkness where she had last seen the shadow. It seemed to be pretty intent on following Felicity, so she purposefully crept up behind them both, hoping they would be too focused on what they were doing to look back and see her coming. She was right: as Sara's eyes adjusted quickly to the semi-darkness, she picked out the figure in front of her easily, catching up with haste to the shadow just as it paused in front of a tree, Felicity taking a phone call just ahead.

"Hearing anything interesting?" Sara asked, standing directly behind the figure as it jumped at her words and proximity. It tried to run, but she put out a foot, sending the figure flying until it hit the ground. Stalking after it, Sara loomed over the fallen figure but before she could say or do anything, they gathered their legs up and kicked her in the chest, pushing her backwards. As she regained her balance, the figure pulled off a martial arts move which took some skill, using their legs to flip themselves upright. They both stood shakily before Sara ran forward, swinging her bar to hit the assailant in the ribs once, the throat once; although they stumbled and grunted in pain, on the third hit the shadow caught the bar, using it to unbalance her, making Sara fall to the ground.

At their noise, Felicity had ended her phone call abruptly, shouting Sara's name. She had just found them, fighting on the floor, when there was a flash of silver and Sara cried out – Felicity's arrival had been a distraction enough for the shadow to pull a knife and slash the Black Canary on the arm. As Sara held her arm to her chest and struggled to her feet, the shadow took off, blending into the dark in seconds. Although both of the ladies gave a few feet pursuit, by the time they got to the end of the park the figure was long gone, and could have got themselves lost in any of the crowds of dark places of the city.

"Damn it," Sara swore loudly, cradling her arm and more pissed at losing and not being able to save Felicity than she was about her own wound. Staggering back through the tree's she collected her fallen bar, standing straight with a groan. The knife slash really did hurt.

"We should get you back to the foundry, I can take a look at that," Felicity said, shaken by the fight and finally seeing her stalker. She felt guilty above all else, "This is my fault."

"No, it isn't" Sara reassured her, putting pressure on the wound, "I've had worse, trust me."

"It is. I should have told the others."

"I'm sure they'll know soon enough" Sara said grimly, already thinking of Ollie's disappointed and condescending face when he hears she didn't tell him. "Was that him on the phone?"

"-Crap."

"Thought so. You'd better call him back, tell him to meet us as Verdant."

Felicity sighed, "Is he going to shoot me?"

"No," Sara laughed weakly, as they walked back through the park, ready to go home. "If he tries, I'll stop him. Promise."

"That would be two favours I owe you, then" Felicity joked.

* * *

Oliver Queen had called Felicity about some people smuggling drugs at the docks, trying to convince her to come back in when he had heard a commotion on the other end. Felicity had screamed, and he heard running before the phone cut off.

"Felicity?" he shouted, but knew it was useless. Slamming his phone down, he looked around the Queen mansion and tried to think of what to do. Something was happening, he knew that. Felicity was in danger – he had to find her. Picking up the phone again, he called Diggle, who answered immediately, "Felicity is in trouble, meet me here in five."

"On it" Diggle answered.

Oliver crossed the room and pulled on a coat, leaving his room and heading downstairs quickly, taking the polished wood stairs two at a time. He was almost out of the door when a voice stopped him.

"It's a little late, isn't it?" Thea asked from where she sat at the sofa, but she was staring at a blank TV screen. "To be going out."

"Something came up," Oliver lied, the words sounding bitter in his mouth. Since she had found out that Malcolm Merlyn was her father, Thea had barely talked to him or their mother. She stayed in her room, and without even Roy to talk to, Oliver had no idea how she was doing. He hated having to lie to her and leave her now, but Felicity needed him. "I've got to go."

"There was a time when you would think twice about lying to me," Thea said quietly, "what happened?"

Having no answer, Oliver left the house, hating himself more with every step and leaving her alone in the dark, with nothing but a turned off TV set. Diggle was waiting outside with the car, and he jumped into the front seat.

"What's going on, Oliver?"

"I was on the phone to Felicity and she started screaming," he answered, distressed, "I don't know what's happening, or where she is, or -"

"Calm down, we'll find her" Diggle answered, "She's tough. She'll be fine."

"It's just . . . if something happens to her, I don't want the last thing I said to her to be an argument," Oliver looked down as Diggle started to drive, face sombre. He looked haunted. For Ollie, it was a long overdue wake-up call. Fighting with Felicity was always a mistake, and the twist of his stomach he'd felt for days was regret at them fighting, and if she – if she died, that feeling would never go away. She was his friend, his partner, and he didn't want to ever fight with her again. "It can't be."

"We'll find her" his friend repeated calmly.

They were halfway to Felicity's when her second call came through, and then they were racing towards Verdant for the second time that night.

* * *

Felicity was cleaning out Sara's wound, a medium-sized but not too deep gash on her arm. She had just used anti-septic on it, the other lady not even flinching at the medicine's burn, and was just stitching it up, two or three stitches at the most, when Oliver and Diggle burst in.

"Sara?" Oliver asked, stopping when he saw her before his gaze fell to her arm, the cut obvious. Stony faced, he looked between the two women vehemently, "is one of you going to tell me what the hell is going on?"

"Ollie, don't get mad -"

"It's my fault," Felicity interrupted, taking a step forward and giving Sara a tiny nod. She stood in front of Ollie and Diggle, the latter crossing his arms over his chest and watching her intently. "I thought someone was following me, but I waited a few days until I was sure before going to Sara. She was following me, trying to find the other person following me – a sort of following ring . . ." realizing she was rambling, Felicity trailed off, neither of the men speaking. She hung her head, "None of this is her fault – she was hurt trying to help me."

"_Both_ of you should have told us" Diggle said, but calmly. Softening, he tilted his head as he looked at her. "We're your friends, we could have helped."

"I know, and I'm sorry -"

"Then why didn't you?" Oliver snapped. He looked truly annoyed, looking down on her, "you could have been hurt! Sara _was_ hurt . . ."

"We were arguing" Felicity explained with a little shrug. "I was angry, and I wanted to save myself for once. I thought that even after a few days that you'd just get mad and start shouting in your 'vigilante voice'."

"I-" Oliver started loudly, but he stopped himself. Remembering how he had felt when he'd thought she was hurt, he took a deep breath and forced himself to be calm. When he looked down again, he felt just as guilty as she did, softening his voice and face as he reached out to touch her on the shoulder. "I'm sorry that you felt like you couldn't come to me."

"It's not your fault -"

"It is," Oliver said, a half smile on his lips, "I was acting like . . . well, me. You've put up with a lot from me and I'm sorry. You know that no matter what, you can come to me if anything like this happens again, right?"

Felicity nodded, "I'm sorry too."

"Don't be. You've always been there for me – whatever this is, whoever's following you, we'll work it out." He looked up at Diggle and Sara, who smiled at them both encouragingly, "as a team."

* * *

**A/N: **_thanks to anyone who reviewed the first chapter__! Please give me an_y advice or feedback again, cheers. Is daily updates but short chapters good?


	3. An unexpected reunion

'An unexpected reunion'

With the whole of team Arrow on board, plans got made and executed quickly, especially when one of their own was in danger. For the next few days, they all waited on edge for the shadow to reappear. This time they were ready: Felicity was under their surveillance, at least one of the team watching her at all times, with the others on a practised two-minute standby to get to her apartment when the shadow slipped up again. They weren't getting away this time, not if Oliver had anything to say with it. He wanted to know who was following Felicity, and why; if his worst fears were confirmed and it turned out to be Slade, then God help 'Deathstroke', because the Arrow would be coming for him.

"Hey," he caught up to her as she was leaving the Foundry one night, catching her by the arm. "I'll drive you home. Come on."

"I, er – thanks" Felicity mumbled in return, steered by him to the garage after throwing a wave over her shoulders at the others, including a sullen looking Roy.

He had come back to them after a visit from Diggle a few days before, convincing him simple, with a message consisting of three words: 'Felicity's in trouble'. Roy had come back immediately, knowing that he owed her his help, as it was Oliver he was really angry at, and she had never been anything but kind and patient with him. Still cold towards the team, aside from her and occasionally Diggle, Roy kept to himself when he wasn't on duty and paced the Foundry like a caged lion. She worried about him, but had too much on her mind to do anything but shoot him sympathetic looks or mirrored raised eyebrows whenever Oliver was being dramatic.

It had been nearly a week since the incident with Sara, whose wound had healed almost completely, not too bad in the first place, and the shadow hadn't been seen again. For a while, Felicity had wondered vaguely if they had been scared off by the attack, but then the odd occurrences had started again, ghost footsteps following her and broken milk bottles outside her door; she had known the shadow was back.

But it was definitely more hesitant this time, keeping its distance and more careful not to get caught. However with their plan, the minute it put a toe over the line, they would have it.

"Are you okay?" Oliver asked her, and she realized that they were in the car and already driving towards her place. Felicity had been so wrapped up in her thoughts, she hadn't even noticed.

She shook her head, leaning against the window to rub her temples as she spoke, "yeah. I mean, I'm being followed by someone, possibly sent by your psychotic ex-island buddy who's on a mission to ruin the city, but aside from that – yeah, I'm fine."

"Felicity -"

"I'm sorry" she rambled again, "I'm not complaining, it's just hard to concentrate on anything when I feel constantly . . . watched."

"You don't have to apologise," Oliver said calmly, turning his flashy black car, some high-end Mercedes, into her street. Usually Felicity walked, knowing it wasn't far and enjoying the city at night. Now, she was more likely to drive or get lifts to and from work, afraid to walk alone. She hated that she no longer felt safe at home. Oliver could see all of this in the tense set of her jaw, and he noticed how she looked over her shoulder all of the time, always expecting to see someone there. It broke his heart to see his fearless Felicity so afraid, and he was going to make whoever was responsible pay, although he blamed himself most of all. "If it wasn't for me bringing you into this, you wouldn't have to deal with this now . . ."

"No," she interrupted with surprising conviction. "Never apologise for bringing me into this. I'm glad every day that you did – even more every day, if it's possible. I will never regret agreeing to be a part of this, no matter what."

Oliver felt the corner of his mouth twitch up. She was collapsing under the weight of this, but still Felicity was amazing him with her resilience. She missed his smile; always did. "Really? 'Cause I seem to remember you striding about claiming you were only there to help Walter."

"I joined to save Mr. Steele," Felicity said earnestly, "I stayed for you. And Digg."

The second part of the sentence was added a second too late, making Oliver's smile deepen to a grin as he pulled up outside her apartment. He was glad she didn't hate him for this, he had expected her to despise him for the danger she was in, but Felcity, as always, was the light. Never hating anyone, least of all him. Oliver had always understood that with little of her own, and never present in her life, Felicity had considered him and Diggle to be her family. Sara and Roy were a part of that too now, he guessed, and he admired her ability to make family wherever she went. People gravitated towards her warmth.

He was smiling as she hopped out, red tails of her long coat flicking gracefully as she stepped out of the car and shut the car door, before taking a few steps towards her apartment building. Suddenly, Felicity stopped, turning to him with a bright smile, although her eyes were tired. "Night, Oliver."

Realizing he'd missed the words when he'd been missing, Oliver Queen felt warmth spread through him at hearing them again. "Goodnight."

* * *

"Here," Sara sat down opposite Felicity the next night, sliding her over a drink from upstairs. Felicity had been sitting at her computer in the Foundry for hours, trying to forget the world by focusing on work. Seriously, she was getting as bad as Oliver, and Sara noticed. "I think you need it."

"I'm fine," the other girl replied tonelessly, not even looking up from her computer.

"Yeah, sure you are." Sara scoffed, "when was the last time you had a decent night's sleep?"

"Let's see – that would be the night before Oliver showed up in the back of my car, bleeding and dressed in full vigilante costume."

"You're so cute," Sara smiled, her signature phrase in describing the other girl. "And you definitely need a break. Please, come up to the club with me; take five minutes to spend some time with the human people."

"I've got work to do" Felicity said, but Sara could feel her caving, so pulled at her arm.

"Don't be an Ollie."

"Hey!" laughing, Felicity allowed Sara to pull her up the stairs to the club. The music was blaring as always, and Thea sent them both a smile from behind the bar as they approached it, purple dress glinting under the light. Her lips quirked up, and from what Oliver had been telling them recently, Felicity was surprised at the smile.

"What are you doing here?" Thea asked curiously, looking at Sara, "I thought you weren't working tonight."

"I'm not," Sara shook her head. "Just here for a break with my friend, Felicity."

"Right, you're my br-" Thea broke off, face freezing at almost saying the word 'brother'. Oliver wasn't that anymore. She looked down, so Felicity tried a warm approach.

"Your dumb brother's ass-saver whenever he does something stupid?" Felicity supplied, and Thea almost smiled again. "That's me."

"Will you join us for a drink?" Sara asked, but the younger Queen looked conflicted, about to turn them down when Felicity added.

"Please. At least with two of you I won't get flashbacks to always drinking alone at college, I can pretend I have friends."

"Alright" Thea agreed, joining in Sara's laughter and Felicity's tiny smile. The light came back into her eyes just a little, wary of Sara because of her relationship with Oliver but willing to try. She didn't have many friends anymore. The past year had been a huge wake up call for her - school was over, and life was hard. All she had for the longest time, when her mom was on trial and her brother went AWOL, was Roy. She didn't even have him anymore. So when people she knew, and liked, offered company and a drink, there was no other answer but yes. Thea Queen hated to think it, but she needed someone.

They sat in the club for almost a two hours in the end, drinking and talking. For the first time in weeks, Felicity relaxed and stopped looking over her shoulder; Sara got to try and make firmer friends and roots in Starling; Thea didn't feel alone. After quite a few drinks: things started spilling. Thea confided her pain over loosing Roy to them, but kept respectfully quiet on the Oliver front, knowing both of the other women had strong connections to her brother. To their credit, on hearing about the break-up, they were sympathetic and understanding. Thea missed the look they shared as she looked down into the bottom of her empty glass, as she had done so often in recent weeks.

Oliver and Diggle found them like that in a half-empty club hours later. As they approached, Thea sobered instantly, making an excuse and darting away as her brother opened his mouth to talk to them. Hus mouth fell closed in disappointment as she ran away, but Felicity noticed, heart breaking. Gathering herself, she staggered unsteadily to her feet, caught by Diggle.

"Thank you, Digg the Diggle" Felicity said drunkenly, looking to where the other girl had vanished and starting towards the same place, "give me a minute."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asked sceptically.

"It's a great one."

Felicity stumbled away to the storeroom and found Thea sitting on the floor, knees curled up to her chest and leaning against the wall. She sat down next to her, sliding awkwardly against the door until she was sitting.

"He's not a good person, you know" Thea said quietly, after a moment's silence of them both sitting on the floor. When Felicity looked confused, she continued, "My brother. I know you think the world of him, it's all over you face whenever he enters a room, but really – he's not a good person."

Felicity raised her brow, knowing sometimes, that was true. She felt a rush of sisterly affection towards the other girl, who looked so alone. A heavy sigh escaped her, worn down by the week. "He's trying. Oliver is . . . difficult at the best of times, and a downright jerk at the worst. But he loves you. You've got to know by now that he does really love you, so much."

"Then why does he always lie to me?"

"Because he's programmed to believe that it's the best way to protect you."

"It isn't," Thea said bitterly, "It never is."

"He doesn't see it that way," Felicity admitted, "I know that you probably hate him right now, and have every right to – but he's your brother, don't lose him. You'll regret it forever."

"I lost him six years ago in that boat crash" Thea said.

"No, you didn't. He came back. Oliver's really, really trying to make things better now he's back, and he makes mistakes more often than not, but he's still trying. He never meant to hurt you, you have to believe me."

"How can I believe anyone anymore?"

"You just have to," Felicity said, something clicking in her. "You be scared your whole life. You've just got to stand up and say 'no' to whatever you're afraid of sometimes."

* * *

The Shadow slipped up four days after that, at night, as Felicity was walking up to the front of her apartment building, heels clicking softly against the cold pavement when a second set of shoes joined her own. She became ridged, but forced herself to keep walking, eyes closing and a tiny whimper escaping her. Felicity was afraid.

Reaching into her coat pocket, she fumbled blindly with the phone inside it, trying to find the 'panic button' to send for the others. Pressing it but knowing that even closer, Roy was watching, she did their pre-arranged signal to tell him she was being followed – stopping and kneeling to adjust the strap of her shoe. As she did, she heard the footsteps following at a distance stop. When she tilted her head to look, she could see no one.

Until Roy burst from the alley, throwing the dark – clothed figure to the floor, his chest heaving in rage. He took a step forwards and grabbed the shadow by their hood, lifting their face off the floor only to send them back to the pavement with a sickening crack after he punched them on the face. He did the same again before Felicity stepped forward, hand over her mouth.

"Stop! Please, Roy. Just stop!"

"This is the person who's been following you!" He shouted back in confusion, standing over the figure, who hadn't moved since he had hit them the second time. Roy had not been practising restraint, and there was blood on the pavement.

"But you're killing them" Felicity breathed quietly. Her eyes were glistening, and even in the dark he could see her hands shaking. She was begging him, "please, stop."

Standing over the assailant, Roy stopped, staring at her. The guilt flared up quickly, as he looked back down to the body where he had put it, unmoving. What had he done? Aside from the fact that he had never killed, and never wanted to, they needed to get information from whoever it was. He took a step back, fists unclenching.

Unfortunately, the figure manipulated the moment of doubt to their advantage. Taking a cheap shot kick-in-the-balls, they jumped to their feet, and he noticed their height for the first time as he doubled over in pain. The shadow was small, both in height and figure. But that was all he had chance to notice as they kicked him twice in the ribs before landing a decent jaw punch and retreating back into the alley at a run.

"No," Roy groaned, recovering quickly but pissed off now, nose bloody, and gave chase. As he got to the foot of the alley, Felicity following him at his shoulder, looking terrified, he saw the figure sprint at the fire escape, jump and catch the bar like some kind of free-runner. It was practised, skilled movement, strength in the way they lifted their own weight easily and climbed steadily from there. Roy knew that he could probably catch them, but he'd have to take the stairs. It was low light, he wasn't the best climber, and they had a head start – _great_.

"You can't go after them like this" Felicity said.

"Gotta stop them" he grimaced back, "I don't see another way."

Turns out he didn't need to, as before he had even reached the ladder there was a cry from above, and the black figure fell from a great height with a scream, arms and legs flailing. The shadow fell into the nearest dumpster with a thump, jumping up and out quickly as Sara Lance, in full costume, jumped from where she'd thrown the figure, landing on the pavement easily. The figure turned to see her waiting, bar slung over her shoulder, before spinning and running towards Roy and Felicity, cornered.

He reacted instantly, catching the passing figure and throwing them towards the nearest filthy way, holding them a few feet off the ground by their throat. They had done it – the shadow was trapped by Roy, as Diggle drove the car to the neck of the alley, blocking the escape and headlights lighting them all up, Oliver appearing by Sara's side. Before he did anything else, he walked to Felicity's side, placing a hand on her shaking shoulder.

"Are you hurt?"

Felicity could not speak, only shaking her head, not even able to tear her eyes away from the figure.

Taking it as a hint, Oliver did the same, turning to look at where Roy still held the struggling figure prone against the wall, slowly choking them, their face still hidden by a dark hood and scarf. This bastard, whoever they were, had been the one driving Felicity half-insane with worry for the past month. For a mad second, Oliver was half-tempted to let Roy squeeze the life out of them until he noticed something – out of the hood, a single, golden lock of hair had come loose.

Face falling; Oliver stepped forward, pulling their hood down roughly. To his and everyone else's collective surprise, it was not one of Slade's goons that stared back – but a young, blonde girl, eyes wide as the breath left her. Although she was still fighting back, she looked terrified. His voice failed him in shock, until a shrill, small voice shouted from behind him.

"Stop!" All of their gazed drifted to Felicity, who looked like she'd been punched in the gut, all colour draining from her face as she took a few steps backwards, almost tripping in her shock. She stared at the girl as if she was seeing a ghost, and in a moment they all understood why. "That's my sister."

"What?" Oliver demanded, looking from Felicity to the other girl, who Roy immediately dropped.

As soon as her feet touched the ground Felicity's sister was clutching at her throat, her coughing raw and haggard. She half-fell against the wall, slumping against the dirt, and pushed away Roy's hand irritably when he tried to steady her. Looking at them all venomously, not able to speak yet, her eyes shifted to her sister, who had took a few steps back, still watching her with that same haunted look. It was a Felicity none of them had ever seen before; Oliver tilting himself to stand protectively in front of her as he sister straightened, catching her breath and standing.

She did not look like Felicity. That was the first thing Oliver thought, as he got a better look at the younger girl in the headlights. They were as different as the sun and the moon. She lacked Felicity's finesse: whereas his friend always looked immaculate with her clothes and make-up, precise and ready, this girl obviously cared little for her appearance, clothes old and worn in, hair curly to Felicity's usual straightness, but still the same golden blonde. She could only have been Thea's age, but looked older. Her eyes darted like a caged animal, calculating intelligence glistening in sunken sockets, whole face having the gaunt look of someone who'd suffered for a while and had eaten little recently. She reminded him mostly of himself, but when he was on the island. This girl had the same, half-starved and desperate, must-survive energy as he used to. He thought that she looked uncared for, rough around the edges but tough, but underneath the dirt he could imagine what she might look like if she was cared for, face with a sweet quality which could be beautiful like her sister's.

One she stood tall, her eyes never left her sister's, mouth twisting into an odd grin. "Hello, Fee."

* * *

**A/N: **_so hopefully this chapter makes the title of the fic make more sense. Next chapter we'll learn a little more about Felicity's past. Please keep reviewing, it's been really helpful so far!**  
**_


	4. Lost girls

'Lost girls'

Felicity's apartment was like a mirror of her: small and homely, with warm colours and _doctor who_ box sets next to the TV, several laptops and tablets scattered around with half-finished documents opened on them. There was a small, clean kitchen with a plant on the windowsill and a yellow kettle; a slightly bigger living room with a bookcase across a whole wall, a messy coffee table and comfy sofa, lamp lighting the room dimly but warmly in a orange glow; a bathroom with blue tiles and a bedroom, which Felicity awkwardly shut the door to as soon as they all entered, blocking their view. It was her in a nutshell, but looking around, Oliver wondered how he'd never noticed her lack of photographs before. Nothing of her family was there – just a picture or two of him, her and Diggle back when their team was smaller, one of Felicity and Sara when they had taken a trip to Central City together to visit Barry and get some fresh air, and one of him and Diggle, arms around each other. They looked like a family.

Thinking this, he spared a look to Felicity's sister, who was looking around and seemed to be thinking the same thing, eyes on the photographs. She had said very little to them so far, but followed willingly as Felicity led them up, now standing in the middle of the room, arms hugging herself, keeping herself closed off. Blood was splattered across her face from some of the fight, worryingly so from a cut on her head, but she didn't seem to know or care.

Diggle interrupted Oliver's thoughts, grabbing him by the arm to let the others go ahead and speaking quietly. "Did Felicity ever mention having a sister to you?"

Oliver shook his head. "No."

"Why would she keep something like this from us?"

"I don't know, Digg. Felicity probably had her reasons for not telling us."

"The kid's trouble," Diggle said ominously, eyes on the younger girl's back. He sounded not judgemental, but regretful. "You've seen her – she must have learnt to fight like that somewhere, and I'm betting it wasn't in the girl scouts."

Oliver tilted his head in acknowledgement of the fact, and they followed the others into the living room. Felicity's sister had taken a seat on one of the two couches, Sara sitting on the other, like two sides of a war. Roy was pacing by the window. Which meant Felicity had escaped somewhere; clapping Diggle on the shoulder, Oliver headed towards the kitchen. Pushing the door further open, he saw her standing at a sink, the glass she was holding already full but spilling over as she stared blankly out of the window, not noticing.

"I think that's done" he said quietly, coming up behind her to stand at the countertop next to her. When Felicity looked down and saw the overflowing glass she started, pulling it out of the tap stream, hands shaking. Oliver put a hand on her back, "hey, it's okay. It's fine."

"It isn't" Felicity hissed back, not wanting the others to hear. She looked like she was holding back tears. "I haven't seen my sister in years and she shows up like this?"

"I get that it's a lot to take in-"

"A lot? No, a lot was you showing up as the Arrow," Felicity whispered, "this is my worst nightmare."

"What went down between you two?" Oliver asked gently.

"I let her down."

Felicity looked so ashamed, head bowed and fingers tightening on the glass until they turned pale white. A despair beyond words tinged her words, and he realized why – she had missed her sister. His heart leapt in grief for her, and he squeezed her arm reassuringly. It struck Oliver that the four words, so sharp and simple, not her usual rambling, said a lot.

"Whatever happened before, I'm sure you'll work it out now," he said. She looked up uncertainly, so he nodded towards the door, "but you can't fix anything if you don't talk to her."

"I'm scared."

"Felicity, you're one of the bravest people I know. You've got this."

She looked up, eyes meeting his fearfully. "What if she hates me?"

"Nobody could hate you" Oliver said.

"I'll explain why I never mentioned her later. It's just . . . messed up, stupid, family stuff."

"I get it," Oliver smiled grimly at that, "better than most people. You ready?"

"No," Felicity said, a half-nervous laugh escaping her. Then she walked back into the living room, glass of water held out like her heart in her hand, and sat on the coffee table, facing her sister. When she offered the drink, the younger girl accepted it without thanks, still rubbing her bruised throat from being held up against the wall that way. The girl sipped the water before placing it on the table, careful not to meet Felicity's eyes until that moment; when their gazes locked, the younger girl looked reproachful.

"So . . ."

"Guys," Felicity cleared her throat and looked around, gathering their attentions, "this is my sister, Lena."

"Nice to meet you all" Lena added sarcastically, her accent unlike Felicity's, rougher and more casual. She waved her hand with a smirk, and Oliver saw Roy roll his eyes.

"Lena, these are . . . my friends" Felicity said next, gesturing towards the various masked vigilantes sprawled around the room.

"Interesting company you're keeping."

"What are you doing here?" Felicity snapped. Her voice was only raised a little, but she sounded concerned through the annoyance, "I mean, you've been following me for weeks. Fighting my friends-"

"Technically, they attacked me first."

"They were trying to protect me! We thought you were some maniac or thug – you were sneaking about in the dark! What was I supposed to think?"

"Okay, fair enough" Lena relented, holding her hands up. She leant back against the sofa cushions and looked to the people, "No hard feelings?" Roy grunted and the Black Canary looked at the girl inquisitively before nodding once.

"How did you learn to hide like that?" Sara asked, "I've never seen someone so young so good at getting away."

Lena grinned wickedly, "Don't ask questions you don't wanna know the answers to."

"This isn't a joke," Felicity snapped, "Why didn't you just come and talk to me like a normal person?"

"I was going to eventually," Lena said, voice taking on a cool tone, "I just wanted to see what your life was like here first. To see if I could figure out what was so great here that you never came home."

Felicity looked like she'd been slapped, paling at the words and jerking back. Her mouth fell open as her sister's twisted in a hard, bitter line. "Lena . . ."

"Don't" The younger girl shook her head disgustedly. "Just don't. I don't want your excuses."

"Hey, maybe you should let her speak before you start running your mouth" Oliver said, standing from where he'd been leaning on a doorframe and taking a few steps forward. The younger girl only looked at him sceptically, eyebrows leaping up.

"Sit down."

"No! Felicity is my friend."

"But until we share the same last name, you have to right to get involved in family business."

"Felicity is my family too! She's my team."

"And how is she qualified to be running about trying to save an entire city, when she was too cowardly to stay by her own family?"

"How dare you-"

"Stop it!" Felicity cut them both off from shouting, standing up. Sending Oliver a pleading look, she paced for a moment. "Both of you just stop it. Please."

Lena held her hands up and Oliver retreated, disliking her more and more by the second. Lena seemed to be sour in her nature where Felicity was good-hearted, with a bitter bite. He just couldn't get a read on her: she flicked from sarcasm to moments when she looked broken-hearted, and without knowing what happened between her and Felicity – why his friend apparently 'left' – he had no idea what was really going on. But he disliked her attitude; her skill and the fact that she didn't seem afraid of them worried him. Something told him that Lena Smoak wasn't an ordinary kid.

"How did you find me?" Felicity finally asked after a static silence, annoyance on both sides. She turned back to her sister but remained standing.

"I learnt something about computers, growing up with you. I'd been looking for about a month before I found you, using the paper trail you left and some people I know. I like how you're going by 'Smoak' now, by the way. Dad's name. Real cute," Lena sounded pissed, sitting rigidly. She crossed her arms defiantly, staring down her sister and leaving every member of the team wanting to run to Felicity's side and defender her but knowing this was something she had to face. Families fought all the time, after all. "What was it, huh? It wasn't enough for you to abandon me and mom, you had to change your last name to get rid of every trace of us?"

"It wasn't like that."

"Then what was it like?" Lena asked, eyes glistening. Her teeth were clenched to hold them back as she sat up in her face, ignoring everyone but her sister. "Because I woke up one day and you were just gone. There was a note saying you'd decided to up and leave for college but that was it – a few letters here and there – until they stopped. And my big sister was just . . . gone. I was just a kid! I needed you, Fee. I loved you. And you just left us."

"I had to live my life."

"So we weren't worth living for?"

"No! I never said that!" Felicity cried, wringing her hands through her hair. None of the team had ever seen her in such a state of disarray. "It was just – you know how mom was, I couldn't take it anymore-"

"Sick, Fee. Mom was sick and she needed us."

"We didn't deserve what she put on us!" Felicity finally shouted, so much emotion in her voice, horror and regret and fear all mingled together, that Lena was silenced for a moment, and everyone in the room held their breath. She never raised her voice. It was unlike Felicity: always sunny, always positive Felicity – pale and shouting, looking more scared than when Count Vertigo had held her captive.

After what felt like an age, Lena got slowly to her feet, looking at Felicity, not knowing her at all. Her sister was a stranger. "She's dead, by the way. Mom's dead."

"W- what?"

"She died a month ago, that's why I went looking for you" Lena said, taking a few steps across the room as Felicity stepped back, hand going to her face. She looked devastated, and felt ten times worse. Sara got up and stood beside her friend, taking her arm to steady her. Felicity had no words, unable to think – to feel – as Lena went on. "She made me promise to tell you. Once she was gone, I mean. I think she saw it coming in the end – we knew she was dying, but she just got scared as it got closer. She loved you, even after you left. Made me promise to find you and tell you."

"How?" Oliver asked, looking up and not understanding. He looked at both of the Smoak girls, but Felicity looked too shocked to speak. Turning to Lena, who looked crestfallen at having to say the words, but had done her grieving in the last month, he asked again, "How did your mother die?"

"Didn't Felicity ever tell you?" Lena asked, confused. "Our mom's been dying for a long time. Ever since we were kids. With dad out of the picture – we had to look out for her."

"It's why I left" Felicity said hollowly, from where Sara had sat her down on the couch.

"Yeah, and I'm the one who had to look after our mom with you gone" Lena said, the words cruel but her tone not, just tired.

"I'm sorry," Oliver interrupted her, genuinely worried about both his friend and the stranger. Nobody should have to deal with something like that, especially not so young. He understood a little better now.

"It was Huntington's" Lena finished with a grim look, speaking to Oliver, although of course she knew him only to be the Arrow. "What was killing her, I mean. You asked."

"Right."

"Well, I guess that's my promise kept. I'll be out of your hair."

"Wait," Felicity called, getting unsteadily to her feet with Sara hovering at her side, looking concerned. She stepped towards her sister, who had turned to the door. "Where are you living with mom gone? Who's looking after you?"

"I'm nineteen, Fee. I'm not a kid anymore."

"That doesn't mean you should be alone. Not now, just after mom -"

"I've been alone for years," Lena shrugged, the last of her vulnerability fading from her face and being replaced by her mask. The last five minutes, she had seemed human, but now the cruelty was back in the set of her jaw. "Don't try and act like you care, Felicity, it doesn't suit you."

"I do care, of course I do," Felicity begged, tears leaking from her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left and I'm sorry I wasn't there. But please, you can stay with me now. We can be sisters again."

"No, we can't."

"She's right, where are you going to go?" Oliver pointed out.

"I've got places. I don't know whether it'll be in the city or not, but I'll be somewhere and I can take care of myself."

Felicity tried to get to her sister to hug her, but the younger girl backed away. The older sister was pleading now, face vulnerable and open, almost like she was a child again. "Let me help"

"I don't want anything from you," Lena said, voice hard. With a half-wave, she turned and walked away, "See ya, Fee."

"Lena, don't go. Please. Lena! Come back!"

But as the younger sister stalked out of the flat at a fast pace, heart racing in her chest, desperate to get away; Felicity's shouts down the hall fell on deaf ears. She didn't even look back, keeping her head down and forwards, towards freedom. That had been harder than she'd thought. Lena had gone into all of this with a stone heart and promise not to care, knowing she couldn't stay as she had debts to pay off to not nice people, but she hadn't expected the joy that had came with seeing her sister again. It had been too long.

It had been Felicity's choice to leave, she told herself. For years as a younger teenager, Lena had thought it was her fault that her sister had left and never came back, that she had done something wrong to make her go away, just like their father had. Or she wasn't worth them staying. Now, she knew she was worthless apart from to the bad people she worked for, paying off the debts she'd made from borrowing money for their mom's medication. Once Mrs. Smoak had gotten too ill to work, things had been hard, and sixteen year old Lena had stepped up as head of the house, getting a job and dropping out of school to support herself and her mother.

She had tried to find Felicity then and failed.

That was when she had gone to the loan sharks, ending up working for the lowest of the low in Coast City where they had grown up; now she was in deep, with a dead mother and a job which in this city would have earned her an arrow in the chest from Felicity's new friend. It was mostly thief work – getting teams in, doing solo jobs – but sometimes they made her do things she wasn't proud of. Now she was in Starling she had been sent to find someone at the docks and told they were her new 'employer'.

It had been worth it, though. She might be paying for it now, but the money she had borrowed had meant the world when her mom was alive. It had meant they could stay together until the end, as Lena watched her mother die slowly, losing her mind more and more each day. She had grown hard inside from that, making this easier now. Not feeling was second nature.

So as her sister screamed for her to come back, it was easy for her to ignore the tug in her heart at the words as she ran faster, pulling up her hood against the world.

* * *

**A/N:**_I'm sorry that there wasn't a new chapter up yesterday, but the four times I checked this site, it was down or crashed. Still, the response I've gotten so far has been so fantastic - thank you, thank you, thank you so much! It means the world, so please keep reviewing you gorgeous super lovely people.  
_


	5. Fear

'Fear'

Felicity became vaguely aware of sitting on her couch twenty minutes later, the world fading around her. As Lena left, she felt her breathing hitch and take a turn between her sobs as her vision tunnelled; the next thing she remembered was Sara catching her as she stumbled backwards and guiding her to the sofa. Felicity had been sitting there, staring ahead blankly and trying to shake the weight that had settled on her chest, knowing people were talking to her soothingly but not able to distinguish the words, faces blurring in and out of focus in front of her.

She couldn't believe it – Lena was back, but their mom was dead.

The shock lasted until she felt something warm pressed into her arms, eyes finally refocusing on the teacup there before blinking, looking up to find Diggle crouched in front of her, with Sara sitting beside her with an arm around her, constantly speaking in a low, soothing tone.

"I-" Felcity said weakly, after what felt like an age, and suddenly Oliver appeared in the picture too, kneeling beside Diggle, who stood to listen, ignoring his aching knee. "I'm sorry. I knew it was coming but I – I don't know."

"It's okay" Sara said, squeezing her arm, "if doesn't matter that you knew it was happening, it's still a big shock."

"And we're here for you" Diggle added.

"How are you feeling?"

"I don't know," Felicity shook her head, taking a tentative sip of the tea. It was sweet and warm, with just a tad too much milk for her liking. Still, it helped, warming her up. She felt her senses slowly return to her as well as the world. "Who made this?"

"I did," Digg answered with a small, considerate smile, "I remembered where the teabags were from last time. I hope you don't mind."

"No, thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Felicity," Oliver interrupted firmly, in the tone which told her she would have to explain things now. She tried not to sigh as he spoke, meeting his steady gaze. It was asking, but not pushing, and she was grateful. They were her friends; she wanted to tell them, she trusted them. But no amount of puppy-dog eyes or tea would make this any easier. "Your sister-"

"Where is she?" Felicity asked, looking around worriedly, biting her lip. "I know what she said, but she shouldn't be alone like this. I should go after her, I should-"

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I already sent Roy after her. He'll keep close."

Felicity looked uncertain. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Oliver took her hands and squeezed them, "she'll be fine. It's you I'm worried about. What was that? Tell us, please." He paused, sharing a look with Diggle and Sara before looking back to her earnestly. "We can help. Anything you need, we can help you."

Felicity squeezed back, but the grip was weak as she forced a brief smile onto her face, just a twitch of lips. "I know."

"Take your time," Sara added, "we've got all night, so don't rush. And don't tell us anything if you're not comfortable with it."

"I am; it's not that." Felicity shook her head, twisting on the sofa and swinging her knees about, stalling. She stopped for a minute to think of where to start, the pain it was causing her clear on her face. Eventually, she spoke, but her voice shook. "I guess the first thing I should tell you is that I'm terrified of dying like my mom . . ."

* * *

"Hey!" Roy shouted across the street as Lena crossed it, watching her back get smaller as she stalked away, on a warpath to anywhere but there. He ran to catch up, noticing she rolled her eyes at his approach but didn't slow down. Putting on a final burst of speed, he caught up to her side as she walked down the dark streets, dangerous at this time of night, although neither of them were scared. He kept pace determinedly beside her, eyes never leaving her face as he scanned it for truth. "Why do you act that way with your sister?"

Lena only shot him a poisoned glance, making her pace quicker to try and throw him. But he was annoying and stayed by her side, not shutting up as she strode through the city; she had never known someone to ask so many questions.

"Are you going to see her again? Do you want to? What's the whole story? I'm guessing there's a real reason why you're so good at sneaking about. What are you, a thief? I get it if you are, by the way – not too long ago I was like you. How long are you staying in the city?"

"Christ, do you ever shut up?" Lena eventually shouted after a while of this, stopping in the middle of the street to face him. She looked annoyed, and he laughed a little.

"I will when you talk to me."

"Fine, I'm talking! Just stop with the questions" she snapped, looking around after decided they'd probably gone far enough and ducking into the nearest building, another apartment block like the dozens in the area. Unlike Felicity's, there was no doorman, and it looked slightly older and shabbier, so they just strolled right back in, Lena's clever eyes finding the sign she needed before heading down a dim corridor.

"Wait, where are we going?" Roy asked, following her anyway.

"I thought we agreed to stop with the questions" Lena pointed out sarcastically, until Roy simply hooked an eyebrow at her in question and she relented, nodding towards a staircase. "Up."

That was enough to silence him as they raced up the stairs, Lena beginning to run as soon as her feet touched the first step. She dashed, taking them two or three at a time but showing little sign of effort for the first few flights, as he followed slightly behind, wondering how two sisters could be so different. The younger Smoak's eyes lit up as soon as she had a purpose, looking up as if she could already see the stars through the roof, a half-smile playing on her lips until they found the corridor leading to the roof, kicking an old grey door open before bursting out, running across asphalt before stopping at a wall around the roof. The sky was dark blue and starry above them, and she looked remarkably alive.

Roy followed not long after, finding her leaning against that wall, elbows on the top and eyes on the sky.

"Why are we here?" He asked, coming to a stop beside her but leaning in the opposite direction, back against the wall so he could see her face again.

"It hasn't exactly been a good night," Lena shrugged, retaining some of her hard edge but looking a lot more relaxed now she could breathe freely again. "I head upwards when I'm upset."

Roy looked thoughtful in response, inclining his head but saying nothing. Oliver had said to follow her and keep her in sight, not that Roy had to be a friggin' therapist. A silence spread out between them, as his gaze shifted to the night around them. It was boring; without Thea, even the stars didn't seem to shine as brightly. A while passed before Lena broke the silence once more.

"I don't hate her, you know" she said, then added when he looked confused. "Felicity. I don't hate her. I know I should, and sometimes I want to – but I don't. She's my big sister, you know? We used to be so close . . ."

"What happened?" he asked, curious. He had thought Felicity was pretty straight-forward, a simple person, now he realized he didn't really know any of them too well. They didn't know him, either, but he wondered what else people kept at the back of their minds. He wondered how often Felicity had thought of her sister, in all of those moments in the Foundry.

"Life. When our dad left, we were both too young to really remember, we just knew that all we had was the three of us – her, me and mom. It made us closer at first; we used to be best friends. I thought the world of her. My sister, always so clever with her computers . . ." Lena trailed off, smile on her face as her eyes focused on something in the distance. She loved her sister, Roy could see that. But her smile wavered as she continued, the hope in her eyes dimming to a dull hurt. "When mom got sick she changed. Felicity would spend more and more time out of the house or in her room, away from us. She just got more and more distant until – she was just gone."

"Must have been tough."

"Not at first. I thought she might come home for the longest of times, deluded myself that it was all a misunderstanding until mom got worse, and I had to grow up and deal with it myself." She broke off and looked up at him, face squinted. "How well do you know her . . . er . . .?"

"Roy Harper" he supplied. "And apparently - not too well."

"But I don't hate her," Lena said after a minute, going back to her original point; feeling the need to explain herself. "I really don't. That's why I've got to leave."

"You've lost me – how does that make sense?"

"I am angry at her. I look at Felicity and I'm glad to see her, but at the same time there's this feeling asking why she left a hole in our family, how she could leave, and it'll eat me alive. You can't live with that sort of anger, you just can't" she explained, and Roy couldn't find the words to say how much he understood that anger and what it was like to live with, only nodding his head briskly once for her to go on. "If I stay, I'll end up giving into it and saying something worth regretting; we'll argue and we'll end up parting on bad terms. At least this way, if I just disappear quietly now, I don't leave hating her. We might leave strangers, but that's better than enemies." As soon as the words left her mouth, they sounded dumb to Lena, who looked away with a small shrug. She didn't expect him to understand. It sounded messed up even to her. "That sounds stupid, I'm sorry-"

"No, it doesn't" Roy shook his head. This time, it was his turn to look away, haunted. "I get it. You're right. It's much better not to leave things with nothing than with hate. If you end things badly, it'll keep you up at night."

Lena looked at him for a moment, studying his handsome but trouble features. After a silence she spoke. "Whoever it is that's left you feeling to guilty – a girl? Is she still alive?"

"Yeah, she is."

"Hate you at the moment?"

"Yeah."

Her eyebrows quirked up, "Deserve it?"

"More than you know."

"Go to her," Lena said bluntly. "If she's really worth it, don't wait until she's dead to tell her you're sorry. The only person who ever cared for me just died and trust me, no matter what you think, staying away from someone you love is never the right thing. So just tell her. Don't lose her because you're afraid. Do it before it's too late."

"I can't," Roy told her, shaking his head slightly. The words were having an odd effect on him; he wanted to do exactly what she said and run to find Thea right there, right then. "Oli- the Arrow, he told me that I had to keep an eye on you."

"You always follow orders?" Lena's toothy grin was wide and infectious. Her eyebrow popped up challengingly, and Roy spared a look over his shoulder towards the city. It would be easy for him to go to the Queen mansion. He let out a loose laugh as he looked back at her, still grinning at him.

Roy changed tack, "And if I told you to take your own advice and talk to Felicity?"

"I'd tell you to go to Hell on principle, I don't like orders either."

"Are you sure?" he asked. He wanted to go now. Staying away from Thea, everything he'd done – it seemed ridiculous now. They were all dying someday, and he wanted to spend as many of his days as he could with her. "I don't want to leave you alone if you're not okay."

"I'm fine. You should get going" Lena said teasingly, quirking both of her brows up at once. Roy nodded gratefully, and was halfway across the room when her voice called out again. "Roy?"

"Yeah?" he turned breathlessly.

Another dazzling grin, "I'm sorry for busting your balls."

Roy laughed, standing atop the roof, ruefully but genuinely, ducking his head a little as he did. Realizing he liked Lena Smoak enough to give a damn, he took a few steps forward again. His smile took a serious edge, as did his tone. "By the way, if you ever need help or want to talk to anyone, you can come to me. I won't tell the others – I don't always follow orders."

"Got it," Lena nodded gratefully. "Your persistence is appreciated."

"So was the advice" Roy told her, before spinning on heel and running away again, this time disappearing back into the building and leaving for good. Lena stayed on the roof, leaning against the wall for another ten minutes before a message beeped through on her phone, which she read quickly, lighting up her face with the bright white light. All of her smile vanished at the message, replaced by a grim one of resentful determination. She had jumped over the ledge of the building and was on her way in minutes – heading straight to Starling City docks.

* * *

"You know me," Felicity started pedantically, playing with her hands as she spoke, "knowledge is everything. Everything that I can do – the computers and technology – is because I learnt it, so I know it. I can understand it. Um, so I looked up the disease my mom had – and what it does. It takes all of that away – you sort of forget, until one day there's just nothing left. Like Dementia."

"So what, you lose your memories?" Diggle asked, brow creasing.

"You lose your entire mind in the later stages," Felicity told him frankly, voice shaking at the words despite their nonchalance, "First it takes away your muscle functions. Then it attacks your nervous system, so after a while you lose control over all of your body; you can't do anything. It's like being trapped in your own mind. It's a horrible way to live." She paused for a moment, hands together before finishing. "And what scares me the most is that it, uh, most of the time at least - it runs in families."

"Do you have it?" Sara asked loudly, voice rising alarmingly in her distress.

"No," Felicity shook her head grimly, "not yet, at least. But Lena and I stand a high chance of getting it later on in life. If we do, we'll be just like mom. Every year I go to the doctor's to have a series of tests checking my balance and cognitive skills to see if I'm still clear. So far there have been no signs."

Oliver swallowed the lump forming in his dry throat. "You've been doing this for years? All this time and you never told us?"

"It's just; I didn't want to talk about it, like, ever. I didn't think I could until now."

"That's not what I meant, I don't blame you," Oliver shook his head sympathetically, his grip on her arm tightening for a minute, neither knowing who was holding who up. "I just meant that you shouldn't have to go alone to something like that. Anything like that – you can tell me and Digg, or Sara or even Roy if you like. I know it's hard to talk about, but you shouldn't have to do this alone – you _don't_ have to do it alone. Not while we're here."

"He's right," Diggle nodded, smiling kindly "next time you need to go to the hospital you call one of us, okay? We might not understand what the hell's going on, but it can't hurt to have someone there to hold your hand."

Felicity nodded, a little choked up. She dropped her head but Oliver caught it, holding it gently, thumb brushing her cheek; Felicity leaned into it gratefully until he retracted the hand and spoke again. "Can you tell us the rest?"

"Yeah. I thought this would be harder; the hardest thing ever. But you're making it easy. Thank you all," Felicity said, looking around at her team with a heart of gold brimming with affection for them, despite its broken state. "But here's the part where you might not think the best of me anymore." She took a breath and sip of tea, which was getting cold. "I was sixteen when my mom got diagnosed; Lena was only nine. God, she was just a kid. We didn't think anything was wrong at first – mom, she took a few falls at work but we thought she was just clumsy, it took the doctor weeks to figure out why she kept stumbling over. She'd have these mood swings too, real bad: one day she'd be all smiles and sunshine, the next she'd spent hours crying over our dad leaving, even all those years later. I didn't know what to do. Then one day she came home and told me. Huntington's. I'd heard of it before, but uh, I didn't really know too much . . ."

"I looked it up that night when everyone else had gone to sleep. Read horror stories about people living with it, and heard about what it would be like. I was terrified," Felicity's voice finally cracked, and a tear traced its way down her cheek before she wiped it away. More fell as she spoke, but she ploughed on, the words free as they left her and hollowing her out, leaving her lighter. "My whole life I thought that knowing things was the most important thing in the world. And I could get this one day . . . all my work, what I can do with computers, this second life - I won't be able to do anything. I'll stop being able to walk. Then I won't be able to type. Then I'll just lose everything else until I'm not me anymore. I'll stop being myself and that was scarier than anything we have ever faced together. I was scared of the earthquake machine; I am scared of Slade and what he'll do – but I am completely, absolutely terrified that one day, the test will come back positive."

"If that ever happens, we'll be with you" Oliver promised.

"That's not the point. The point is – I was even more scared back then. For two years, I watched my mom get worse – she wasn't too bad yet, it was just little things – she wouldn't be able to fit her key in the lock because her hands were shaking. She'd have mood swings even more frequently. And I knew it was only going to get worse . . . so I ran. All I knew is that I didn't – I couldn't – watch that happen to her, knowing that one day I might have to go through the same. As soon as I graduated I left for college without telling them, and I never went back. I never wanted to see mom once she'd lost most of herself, I was too afraid. I just left them! Because I was stupid and selfish and -"

"Scared," Sara said softly, "you were scared. That's nothing to be ashamed of; you were young. It's human."

"No, it's not okay!" Felicity said, angry at herself. Her eyes were wet, face blotchy from her tears. "I ran away and left them. My family. Look and you and Oliver – everything you've did or done, you did _for_ your family; to protect them. I abandoned mine. My mom . . . she was probably scared too, it was happening to her. And Lena – I left her alone with that to deal with. I never saw mom dying, never saw her slipping into nothing . . . but she did. No wonder she's angry. I hope she hates me."

"She doesn't hate you" Oliver said, defeated by dismay.

"How do you know?"

"The way she looked at you just. Yeah, she was mad – but she looked happy to see you. You're her big sister, how could she not?"

"I'm the big sister who left her. Who knows what it was like for her, having to watch mom, to look after them both? At the end, mom would have needed caring for, she wouldn't have been able to work for the last years of her life – Lena must have picked up the slack. While I was here, with my job and my life. That wasn't fair." Felicity put her face into her hands, body convulsing with sobs as she slid forward until Oliver caught her. He wrapped his arms around her shaking body, shushing her gently as he helped Sara to get her back onto the sofa, sitting on her other side and letting her cry into his shoulder until there was nothing left. Every few minutes, voice high and wretched, she would say quietly, "I was just so afraid, I was just so afraid . . ."

Eventually, with his warm arms and Sara stroking her blonde hair, Diggle making a lot more tea while he waited, Felicity stopped crying. She sat for a few minutes, breathing still hitched and heavy, before whispering.

"I don't want to be scared anymore. I want my sister back."

"Shhhh," Oliver stroked her arm, keeping her close, "its okay. We'll find your sister, she'll understand. I promise. This will all work out; you've just got to trust us. We'll help you both out, and you can come home and we'll all be a family, alright? I'm sorry about your mom, but it'll be better again eventually. We'll find her." He held her that way all night, when her sobs subsided to sleeping and Oliver was left with the others, looking as devastated as he felt at the destruction of their friend, eyes hollow as they watched the sky turn from dark to dawn. The next day, Oliver got up, leaving Felicity asleep, head on Sara's shoulder, and went out into the heart of the city in search of a missing sister.

* * *

**A/N:**_thanks for all the lovely words! By the way please check out my tumblr 'cause I've started posting these chapters with little gifsets, which also includes my dreamcast for Lena, Alona Tal (especially as Jo from Supernatural). Please keep reviewing! _


	6. Femme Fatale

'Femme Fatale'

But as it turned out, finding someone who was good at not being seen in a city as big as Starling was harder than they thought. Oliver worked tirelessly for three days in search of Felicity's sister, arguing with Roy in a bad way when he discovered his apprentice had let the girl walk away, until after three days sleeping or staring at walls or too grief-stricken to move, Felicity showed up at the Foundry. She lacked her usual brightness, clothes simpler than usual, in a pair of worn but comfy-looking jeans and blue sweatshirt three times her size, hanging loosely on her frame, hair pulled up into a rough bun. Her face was made-up, but not as much as usual, fresh looking and giving her an air of innocence and fragility which made his very being ache.

Oliver had been working alone in the early hours of the morning, attempting to use her computers to search for signs of Lena anywhere in the city when a voice that was unmistakably Felicity's had spoken up behind him. "You know that the button you're pressing is the volume controls, right?"

"No, I did not. I was trying to access our files" he admitted sheepishly, turning with a hopeful smile in her direction to find her waiting behind him. Stepping away from the desk, he relinquished the seat with pleasure. "It's times like this when I am ever thankful for you. I'd be lost without my expert."

Felicity flushed briefly, but not as obviously as she used to. "Let me take a look at that, what were you trying to do?" Oliver's face shifted uncomfortably, revealing his true intentions and making her heart fall a little. Sitting at her desk and swinging the chair about a little, Felicity looked downtrodden. "Ah. You haven't been able to find her again, have you?"

"Felicity, I -"

"It's okay. I know you would have tried if you promised to," she told him solemnly, "I thought it might be harder than that. She can hide if she wants to, and why would she want to see me?"

There was a silence which stretched out between them for a few minutes, Felicity sitting on her chair and staring at the ground, Oliver watching her with a pained look in his eyes usually saved for memories of the island. After it passed, he took a few hesitant steps back towards her. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay, I guess." Felicity shrugged after a pause, seemingly doing anything at all possible to avoid having to look at him as she spoke. "I have slept a lot, cried a lot, spent a lot of time watching Disney movies we used to watch all the time when we were kids and I am . . . okay. Big surprise, huh? My mom's dead, but I've spent so much time preparing for it that it almost seems like it's nothing new."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Give me time. Don't give up, either. I know it's going to be hard: Lena's good at keeping to herself, she might have left the city, she could have gone home or any other place on the planet – but I have to believe she's still here somewhere. I have to make things right with my sister."

Oliver nodded, "I'm sure you will -"

"- or there's the possibility that although she's my sister so she's programmed to love me, setting a small army of masked vigilantes out looking for her might not be the best idea. Or I could try too hard and end up making her push away. Or -"

"Hey, now stop that," Oliver told her sternly, putting a hand on her shoulder, next to her neck with his thumb on her collarbone. "Thinking like that isn't going to help anyone. I promised you we'll find her, so what do you say we do just that? We've established that I can't use those computers, but with you back at the helm we might just stand a chance."

After a moment leaning on his strength, Felicity nodded and sat up, turning back to her screens and her fingers flying across the familiar keys with fluency and accuracy, straight back to work in a moment. Oliver sat next to her and helped until the sun had fully risen, joined by Diggle and Sara not long after that. For now, this was their only play – forget Slade, saving a family came first.

* * *

A week after that some Arrow business had started to filter back into their lives, on odd nights, to give people hope that he was still protecting their city. Truth was that Oliver was so distracted by trying to help Felicity that he hadn't given a thought to the state of the city until she came over one morning and gave him a case.

"There's been a group of Slade's goons brining in guns and drugs to the city via the docks, the Arrow is going to pay them a visit this afternoon."

He had blinked confusedly, "I am?"

"You are," Felicity confirmed with a curt nod. "They've been working in the day with a sort of 'in plain sight' routine, thinking the Arrow will only come out at night, but we've got to stop them from getting that stuff into the glades."

"But what about . . . ?"

"Everything else can wait for a day," she told him, forcing a smile, "the Arrow means a lot to this city, he can't just disappear every time we have a problem. People need him. For Starling, he's a symbol of hope." _No matter if we've lost our own hope, _she thought to herself.

Oliver picked up his bow, "Okay. What's the plan?"

* * *

The city was a mix of sunny and cloudy that day, a sort of patchy in-between weather; mundane, ordinary. Unless you were a group of gun-smuggling ex-cons and the vigilante decided to show up and ruin your day.

The docks had a simple, iron gated perimeter which was formerly run by honest people, but was now loomed over by three guys with hidden guns, putting on a face but allowing the room for the real bad guys to work in the cargo area. They were the first obstacle – getting in without the alarm being raised. Fortunately for them, all it took was for Felicity to send a blanketing signal through their system, giving the other's twenty seconds of static which would be written off as an accident for the others to take out the guards – all without raising an alarm. Oliver and Sara worked quickly to disable the three, Diggle waiting outside on the off chance that they needed a quick getaway.

A clash if knuckles and arrows later, they were onto the next stage – finding the main place of operations.

The docks consisted of almost a hundred metal crates and storage containers, of all colours but similar, uniform sizes, only one of which contained a shipment of weapons the gang was supposed to be transporting that day; the problem was finding the right container. It was like finding a needle in a stack of needles.

"Felicity," Oliver put his hand to his ear, he and Sara standing inside the gates now, "have you got anything?"

"No . . . the metal must be blocking any sort of signals that might be coming out of there."

"So we do this the old-fashioned way" Sara said behind him, making Oliver turn. "Do you want to take left or right?"

"Left" he replied.

She nodded, starting to walk in the opposite direction, "Right it is then."

"Be careful!" Felicity said in his ear as Oliver pulled his hood firmly up, covering his face, and stalked between the storage crates on the left side of the complex. A simple, old-fashion crook search. It was laughable. Bow in hand; the Arrow went out in search of adventure.

* * *

The search of the docks was strategic and systematic one – Oliver walked until he heard voices. When he did, he pulled up quickly, leaning against the nearest peeling blue crate and standing very still, listening. The voices were rough, a mixture of American and accented tones drifting from around the corner, telling him exactly what he needed. They were even dumb enough to loudly comment on the firing capability of the weapons they were moving that day, getting into an argument over which was the best, at which he rolled his eyes and began to move, jumping to catch a handhold and climbing up the side of the crate.

Once he was standing on the top, vantage point better, he walked soundless across to the edge, having to jump across to the next locker three times before the figures drifted into view. The crates were big enough to fit a lot of people inside as well as weapons, and they seemed to be gathered in the hollow space with only the two jokingly arguing sentry's outside, machine guns in hand. It was almost too easy. Jumping back quickly, he gathered his thoughts and arrows.

"Felicity?" Oliver hissed, "I've found them. They're on the west side of the complex, about seven lockers from the back of the lot and four to the side. I'm going in; send Sara my position for back-up."

"Shouldn't you wait for her?"

"It's an easy job, I'll be fine."

"Stay safe anyways; don't take any risks you don't have to."

Oliver smiled at her concern. "I never do. I'll see you in a few minutes."

"I'll be with you the whole time." Felicity replied, but then tumbled on. "Well, in your ear, at least. Not physically there – you know what I mean."

His smile grew wider, exposing his teeth for a moment, until it grew into a mask once again as Oliver stepped to the end of the crate. As he moved forward, he pulled his bowstring tighter naturally, the movement fluid now from all the years of practise. Still he could remember a time when even drawing the bow back was hard for him. The guards were so busy, they didn't even notice him until the first arrow struck the ground at their feet, scattering them in an explosion of sparks and bright light. The two men fell backwards and wheeled around, too confused to even lift their guns before being shot down with un-lethal arrows of their own, removing them from the equation.

But their shouts and the sound of arrows firing had been too much; inside, the rest of the gang seemed to have realized something was going on, as a head poked out a minute later, followed by an arm and a gun when the man standing there saw Oliver on the roof. A round of machine gun bullets came his way, so Oliver ducked, rolling on the crate until he was out of the line of fire. When the rounds stopped, he quickly jumped back and let lose an arrow as he leaped to the next crate across the walkway between boxes for a better angle. From there, the arrow he sent hit its mark, taking out the shooter with a cry of pain. Another two took his place.

In the fire fight that followed, Oliver almost took a few bullets and had to drop from the top of the crate, landing awkwardly and jarring his ankle. When he was on the ground he had to hide around the corners of the crates, getting off shots whenever he could, but before long the next two shooters were down.

At seeing three of their own taken out by the Arrow, the rest of the gang inside must have scared, because as the third man fell, a stream of bodies erupted from the metal doors of the crate, emitting the rest of them loose out into the gaps between the crates and disappearing quickly. Most of them had guns, stopping to shoot at him before running, all of which Oliver dealt with, wondering only how best to round them all up – until one person in the crowd caught his eye.

It was just a flash of gold among the black clothes and running figures at first, like sunlight on running water.

Straining to see more as his face curved into a frown, Oliver stood in the open watching for too long, and paid for his distraction by taking a bullet right to the chest. With a cry of pain he hit the floor, slamming so forcefully onto his back that the wind was knocked out of his as he gasped for breath, hand going to where the bullet hit in shock. There was a cry of joy from the shooter, who hooted before taking a few steps forward to attack him again but was stopped when a wire thrown from somewhere on the left tangled around his legs, taking him down as Sara Lance leapt into the scene.

Bar out, she took down for of the shooters without a thought, silver pole flashing through the air with precision as she ran and jumped about, flipping off the crates for leverage when she needed before stopping by Ollie to pull him up by the elbow. When he stood awkwardly in pain, grimacing, she remarked.

"It's a good thing we made that suit bullet resistant."

"It'll still leave a bruise" he replied, looking around at the few men left fighting. "You got this?"

"Yeah, you might want to head off the rest – they ran south."

"On it." Oliver sprinted off after the words, weaving through the crates in search of the escapees. But he was distracted, not caring too much about being seen, more about finding that figure again. He had been so sure . . .

His worst fear was confirmed when he turned down a left corner and found the rest of the gang running together, sending an arrow towards the nearest man. As that man fell, the rest of the pack turned to retaliate with gunfire, including one person near the front of the group, the turn of a blonde head – and Lena's eyes locked onto his in a heartbeat, her face twisted up into a grimace, shotgun in her hands.

Oliver looked at her, mouth forming the word 'what?' for only a second before he was distracted by gunfire; but it was from her shotgun. The shot was long, missing him by miles, but when he looked back at her, the message was clear on her face – _next time I won't miss._

Then the rest of the gang followed her lead and began shooting at him again, forcing Oliver to take shelter until it stopped, leaning out to take a few shots of his own once it was clear. There were only about six men left, but it took him precious minutes to clear them, taking them out ready for when the police arrived to arrest them later, courtesy of detective Lance.

I took mere minutes, but that was a lifetime too long; by the time Oliver had fought his way through, clearing his way forward, Lena was gone like smoke on the wind. She had proved to them over the last few weeks that it was something she excelled in, but he had never considered what she might put these talents to. The thought had never even crossed any of their minds that she had the skill-set of a master thief.

As he stared down the empty passageway in disdain, Sara appeared at his side.

"Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Lena," Oliver replied, his voice dry.

"What? What does my sister have to do with this?" Felicity barked in his ear, and he flinched, remembering she could hear every word. Although he spared Sara a look, hoping for an escape route, she was looking at him just as expectantly as Felicity's voice sounded, forcing him to answer.

"I-I saw her. She was here."

"Why would she be there?" Felicity asked, voice rising to a shrill sound of worry.

"She had a gun. I think she's working with the gang."

"Her skills," Sara said quietly beside him, realization dawning in her face, "that's why she was so good at hiding, even from us. It makes sense."

"No! It doesn't" Felicity snapped, "why would my sister be working for the mob?"

Oliver spoke frustrated, moving on the spot. "I don't know. But I don't think she's doing it willingly. Sure, she must have been doing it a while to be so good but there was something about the way she acted – she gave me a warning shot. If her heart was really in it, she wouldn't have done that."

"Well, did you stop her? Is she there?"

He shook his head before realizing Felicity couldn't see him. He said instead, "she's long gone."

Hearing an exhale of breath on the other end of the line, so tired and hopeless, Oliver had opened his mouth to speak again when he was curtly cut off.

"You should get out of there. I just called detective Lance, he's on his way to pick up the rest of the gang."

"Felicity-"

"If you don't want to get caught, I suggest you make yourself scarce. Anyone who's there in ten minutes, including her, will be arrested. Go."

Before either of them could say a word, the line went dead with what sounded like something breaking in the background as it did. Oliver sighed, eyes flickering shut until he felt a hand on his arm, opening them to find Sara studying him intently. She was clever, knowing he needed a push right then, the touch enough to wake him up. Gathering up his arrows as he went, Oliver and Sara walked through the docks side by side, getting wearily into the back seat of Diggle's car.

"Man," he commented, turning into the driver's seat to look at them with raised eyebrows and an expression of confusion, "what's eating you two?"

The looks on their faces was answer enough as he drove away without question as sirens could faintly be heard approaching in the background.

* * *

**A/N: **_some bad news: with all my extra college work as well, finding the time to write this has been really stressing me out, so updates might slow down from here on out. I'm very sorry. But thank you all so, so much for all your positive reviews so keep them coming to keep me motivated, and hopefully I'll keep updating a few times a week. Thank for for understanding, well, if you do. _


	7. Losing streak

'Losing Streak'

That night, all of team Arrow was sitting at a warehouse area of town they knew the gang from that day had been working from. After an afternoon with a mixture of arguments and sadness in the lair, Felicity jittery the entire time, desperate to know what was going on, it had been decided that since they planned on taking down the entire gang anyway, they could go that night and grab Lena while they were there. They wouldn't turn her over to the cops, of course – they'd bring her back to the Foundry to three simple words: what the hell?

Oliver was halfway between pissed and worried for the young girl, just Thea's age and working for the mob? It was crazy. But she was, he had seen it with his own eyes – as she shot at him. By that reasoning, Lena should be the enemy, one of the people they handed over to the police for their crimes, yet he knew that wasn't an option this time, Felicity for one would kill him if he even tried. She wanted to talk to her sister, find out what was going on, help her – she didn't seem to pay any attention to the fact that Lena was obviously in deep with something dangerous. That was where the worry came in. If the younger girl was working missions like that, then she was in danger every second, just by association from the people she ran with. She could die. And despite his hesitation to forgive her for it without an explanation, he also didn't want her dead; it would ruin Felicity, and Lena was just a kid.

Before he could even think about what was right in terms of justice, they would save her; bring Lena home.

* * *

When they first got to the warehouse that night it was early in the evening, the sky indigo above them, darkness just beginning to creep into the bones of the city. It made the warehouse, more of an old, dilapidated shack, falling apart and just the sort of dingy, low-class place they expected the lowlife of the city to work from look ten times creepier.

Diggle pulled up five minutes away, Sara and Oliver getting out of the backseat while Roy pulled his own car up behind them. He still only wore a bright red hoodie for a costume. It was almost endearing, if it wasn't so impractical. Once they all stood by the cars, Oliver looked over his people with a critical eye, calculating what to say.

"Okay," he started, in his head Thea's voice saying '_lame_' for the opening, but he pushed it away, going on. "It's a tricky situation we've got here, I won't deny. We have to make sure no one gets away, it's safer for everyone with them in prison, but we can't risk hurting Lena in the fight. Nor can it look like we let her get away – people like that have a strict code of loyalty; if they think she's double crossed them to work with us, she's dead." He noticed Felicity visibly pale and gulp at the words, so added, "But remember the plan and it will be fine. We're not here to condemn Lena – we're here to save her."

There was a general murmur of agreement, before Felicity spoke up. "Thank you for doing this. I know what you must all be thinking – that Lena's just another criminal and just as bad as the rest – but there's got to be something else going on. Trust me, this isn't her, she's not a bad person. There will be a reason, I know it."

"It's okay," Diggle told her firmly. "Family is family – we don't give up on them."

Sara agreed, "He's right. I know what it's like to lose a sister."

"Right. Let's go." Oliver nodded to Sara and Roy, who started to head off towards the warehouse and sending a significantly stern look to Felicity.

It had been an argument of epic proportions a few hours ago, when Felicity had announced that she was coming with them on this mission. He had shot her suggestion down immediately, without even pausing for a second to consider it; it was black-and-white to him – she couldn't go somewhere so dangerous. But Felicity had other opinions on the matter, for once really raising her voice to him and declaring that it was her family and she had to be there, having to walk out at times to stop herself from saying too much and the first fire igniting behind her eyes since her mom died. Eventually, he had given in, after being taken aside by Diggle and advised to compromise while he still had the chance; they had agreed that Felicity could come as long as she stayed outside with Diggle.

Therefore, at the look he sent her as he left, Felicity made a face back.

"I'm not going anywhere," she frowned, "just bring my sister back."

As he walked away with his team, Oliver tilted to say over his shoulder, "I intend to."

* * *

They saw Lena first, before the rest of the gang even appeared. She was standing in the 'porch' of the warehouse, a shallow room before it opened out to the main part of the building, a few people standing with her, all scarred but surprisingly young and male. They stood around a table, a few of the younger men talking quietly, but Lena stood aside from the rest, looking tired and withdrawn.

"We need to find out how many people there are inside – Sara, can you go around the side of the building and find who's in charge? There must be more people than this" Oliver said, and she nodded and ran off into the night, hair flying without making a single sound. Once she had disappeared, he turned to Roy, nodding. They crept closer, climbing the side of the warehouse until they came to rest on a window ledge, with a good view of what was going on, keeping Lena in their sights at all times. Because of the cracked or missing windows, they could hear every word said inside, and their interest picked up when someone started speaking.

"They're calling you a traitor you know, girl" said a voice, western drawl hanging to the ends of the worlds, and a man detached himself from the other three, approaching Lena with a smile which was not at all friendly. One of his eyebrows crept up his face sneakily, half of a smile playing on his lips which made Oliver feel sick, and so he could only imagine how the girl felt at being looked at in such a way. She physically recoiled, crossing her arms over her chest protectively.

But she put on a brave face as he got closer, although they could see her take a few steps back until her legs hit the back of the table, trapping her. Lena glanced down at this before looking back up nervously to see that the man had closed the distance between them, standing so close in front of her that she could smell the tobacco on his clothes, but forced a pretence of calm over her features, even smugness. "That so?"

"It is," the man grinned, cocking his head to the side. "My dad's in there trying to decide what to do with you. Caused all kinds of trouble, you see – we know you're from out of town and we don't want to step on any toes, but we can't have people working with the Arrow. Oh no, you're in deep, girl. But you see, a good word or two on your behalf by me might just turn things in your favour . . ." he stood even closer now, Lena leaning back against the table to be away from him, yet he still moved forward until his mouth was almost touching her ear. The girl's hands were clenched against the tables in angry fists, face flitting between disgusted and forced calm, until he carried on, "and from what I've heard, you're not even here as an equal; the guys in Coast City _own _you."

At the word 'own', the man leant forward so he had pushed her against the table, pressing her body tight against his. Oliver, Roy and Lena all moved at the same time, the boys flinching forwards to protect her at the same time that Lena kneed the guy in the balls, waiting for him to double over before landing a solid punch to his jaw, sending him backwards to the floor, unconscious. Her breathing was heavy, but she whispered venomously, "nobody owns me."

The other three guys however had reacted to this, standing straighter and walking towards her, distracting Lena from this. Oliver and Roy had stopped half-way to jumping through the nearest windows when she had fought back, but paused, tense, waiting to see how it developed.

The three men attacked, but Lena was ready. Ducking the initial punches, she landed a few of her own, flexibly flipping around one of their wrists which clicked sickeningly as it snapped, man falling to the ground with a scream before she kicked him in the temple to silence him. The next two attacked at once, and she lost her edge, which was when Oliver and Roy finally leapt from their hiding positions but too late – she used the man she had hurt as a shield, pulling a knife from his pocket and throwing it towards the two charging towards her.

It was a good throw, the blade spinning as it curved through the air artfully before imbedding itself in the nearest man's forearm. He screamed in rage, tearing it loose and running the final steps to her, ending by slamming a meaty fist into her face. Lena was knocked back, dazed by the blow but recovered in time to dodge the next one, using the man's motion against him to filp him onto his back, but the second man had got to her by this point and kicked her in the back of her knee. She fell onto them, gaining a punch to the throat and kicked in the ribs, finally losing to the unfair fight.

By the time they arrived, the two men, physically bigger and stronger than the girl, had knocked her to the floor and were stamping and kicking at her viscously. Cleverly, an instinct to most people, Lena had curled up into a ball, hands over her head, but never made a sound throughout the beating.

Oliver shot one of the men, so he was pushed away from his attack before he even saw them coming; Roy grabbed the second man and threw him across the room so hard that he hit the wall before crumpling to the floor.

Once they were dealt with, Oliver knelt by the girl's side and put a hand on her back, turning Lena over and grabbing her wrist before she could hit him, as she instantly reacted as though he was another attacker. When she saw it was him, her eyes flew wide and her mouthed opened in confusion, although it and her nose were bloody, and she looked like she was in pain.

"You came for me?" she asked, as though not quite believing that anyone would. "Even after . . ."

"It doesn't matter," Oliver said firmly, "we have to get out of here."

He had kept his hand on her side, noticing that he felt pain at the look on her face, which was screwed up from the burning in her ribs, eyes shut. She looked scared and hurt. But Oliver was distracted as Sara's unexpected voice in his ear agreed, and he remembered she could hear everything. "I second that."

"You found something?"

"What looks like the big bosses are in another room further around," Sara confirmed, "they just gave the kill order for Lena."

"They wouldn't . . ." the younger girl said in confusion, eyes narrowing.

"Well, apparently they did, so we should be running" Roy reminded them. At his words, they all sprung to action, Oliver helping Lena to her feet, although her breath hitched in pain, and they began to sprint towards the metal doors, wide open. Their only chance was to leave before they were seen . . .

"Are you gonna make it?" Oliver asked, looking over to Lena as they ran, her pace slowing with every step. He had looked unexpectedly, and her face was screwed up in pain from the effort, which she hadn't wanted any of them to see.

"I'll be fine," she bit out.

"Just keep going, we're almost there," he added, turning his head back towards the distance, where he knew their salvation waited. He hoped they made it in time, remarking quietly to himself as he realized it was true, as Sara joined them outside the warehouse, "we're almost home."

* * *

Felicity was not happy. She hadn't been for days, but today had just been one thing after another for her, all of her troubles piling up until they had blocked out the sun. First, Oliver had seen Lena at the docks, working for the enemy with no explanation as to why before vanishing. Then there had been the whole fiasco that afternoon, when she had been forced to argue for the right even to come, when it was her family out there in danger. Felicity usually liked how protective Diggle and Oliver were, it made her feel safe and appreciated, but today it had pushed on her last nerve; she wasn't made of glass or stupid – she understood the dangers and was prepared for it.

The car felt like a prison as she sat in silence next to Diggle, who kept shooting her concerned looks that he didn't think she noticed in the rear-view mirror. She did, though, and all they served to do was remind her that she was useless. Oliver, Sara and Roy were somewhere fighting for her sister right now . . . and she was here, nice and tucked up safely, poor little Felicity who needed their pity, their protection from all the world's bad.

It was crap. She was so done with being afraid – she would do anything to bring her little sister home this time. Felicity had proved herself a part of the team, she knew they respected her as that, but she had hoped that after taking a bullet from the Clockmaker they might just trust her to be there now. But no, she was left outside, with nothing to do but wait. It was killing her; she kept fiddling with the heat controls of the car, for some reason unexplainably warm, pulling at her collar every few seconds. It was stifling, uncomfortable.

It was Oliver's hypocrisy which irritated her the most – they had all seen him when anything bad went within three miles of _his_ family, yet he expected her to sit on the sidelines when her sister could be doing God knows what, in trouble or worse . . .

"I'm going to get some air," Felicity said suddenly, unbuckling her belt in a second and hopping out of the car, walking towards the back of it once she was free and sucking in lungfuls of air. She pushed her hair back, leaning forwards as she breathed in, the air cool on her sticky face. Once she got to the trunk of the car she took only a few more steps before she stopped, eyes purposefully away from the warehouse where she knew her friends were and looking instead out to the dirt road in front of them. It wasn't a pretty sight; it was a dull, desolate piece of land.

A few minutes later, after she had been given the chance to cool off, Diggle, respectful as ever, got out of the car too and loped over, stopping a few metres away.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm sick of that question," Felicity replied hotly. At her flash of anger, she turned away, rubbing her eyes with one hand and saying tiredly, "I'm sorry, Digg. I just don't like not knowing."

"Me neither. But we're here because it's safe, and that's what they need us to be." He answered firmly.

"More like they don't need us at all."

"Felicity!" Diggle shouted in a low voice, careful not to be heard, and she was forced to face him. He sounded disbelieving, "You can't think that."

"Why can't I? Every night you guys go out fighting people doing terrible things, armed with arrows and knives, against people who are super-charged with mirikuru and a psycho fixating a vendetta on us all – while I'm left behind. Every night. I have to sit in the Foundry and watch you all fighting, being so brave on my screens when there's nothing I can do to help. I can't do anything. And right now, our f-friends – let's face it Digg, the only real family either of us have – are in there trying to save my sister, and I'm here. Always waiting, all the time, and it kills me." Felicity was speaking passionately, having taken a few steps towards him, eyes wide and misty, spilling over as she finished. As he stared back, heartsore, she twisted to brush the tears away, becoming very quiet.

"I never realized you felt that way," Diggle said softly.

"Yeah, well . . ."

"I know it must be hard waiting here, but it's for the best. You say you're always left alone when we go on missions – but we always come back, don't we? They're coming back tonight too, with your sister."

"How can you be sure?" Felicity asked, defeated as she turned back to him. Having no immediate answer, Diggle bought himself some time by taking two deliberate steps back to the car and taking a seat on the boot with his pensive face saved only for serious talks. He bit the inside of his cheeks before he spoke, putting a clenched fist to his lips as he thought.

"When my brother died, I thought the world was ending. I really did. He was gone, and I felt like a part of me was gone too and that it would never get better. Not that I'm saying your sister's going to die-" he added, seeing the look on his face at his words, "but you lost her too, in a different way. But now she's back, so you've got to do whatever it takes to make things right – no matter what Oliver says or what's right – put yourself and your family first. Of all the people in the city, we should know that sometimes people deserve a second chance. But my point was – I'm sure because if something happened, you would know. You'd feel it."

"Did you?" Felicity asked quietly, walking towards him and leaning against the car at his side. The tears were dried on her cheeks and she watched him carefully, knowing Diggle rarely spoke about his brother. "Did you feel it?"

"I still do," he answered, and although his lips quirked up, it was not a smile. He looked haunted still. "But do you trust them? Oliver, Sara and Roy?"

"Of course."

"Then trust them to do this. If something happens, you'll know, and we'll go in there together and save their dumb asses," Diggle said to her. Felicity almost laughed, leaning on his shoulder for a very long time.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Felicity sat stock upright. "Something's wrong."

"Let's go" Diggle didn't even hesitate, getting to his feet as they both ran around the back of their car – to see their friends already sprinting towards them. Roy and Sara got their first and set to work opening the doors of the car, but Oliver was hanging behind, and it became clear why a moment later: he was half-carrying Lena, who was bloodied and limping.

"Help" was all Oliver said, and then Diggle was helping him carry the younger girl, Felicity frozen to the spot in terror. Once they had loaded the girl into the backseat Diggle raced to the drivers, Sara and Roy going to the boy's motorcycle having come to some agreement, and it wasn't until Oliver was in front of her that Felicity realized she hadn't moved yet. "We've got to go – quick, she needs you."

Felicity got into the backseat opposite her sister, who was propped up awkwardly at an angle, pale with pain. When she got in, Lena looked up hopefully, "Fee."

Then she collapsed down, falling as the car reversed but caught by her big sister, who gathered her into her lap, Lena's head resting in it as she stroked her sister's hair. Although she was barely aware of it, Felicity was whispering "it's okay, I've got you" all the way home.

* * *

**A/N: **_okay, so updates every two days is a lot more do-able. The next few are a bit grim, but there's team Arrow family-times on the horizon . . . please keep reviewing! side note: this chapter title might just be a subconscious remark about the Undertaker losing the streak last week. I'm still bitter about it.  
_


	8. Confessions of a chronic sinner

'Confessions of a chronic sinner'

Lena came around as they got to the Foundry, the dazed edge she had been given from multiple blows to the head being shaken off by the sharp pain in her chest; she looked around, eyes unfogging, as they helped her into Verdant through the backdoor. At the sight of their base, arrows lining the walls and high-tech computers everywhere, she nodded, looking impressed for a moment through her grimaces.

"Nice place you've got here."

"Is making jokes appropriate at a time like this?" Felicity asked in a very high voice as her sister half-collapsed onto the table, held up by Sara, and she ran to get their medical kit.

"Always, Fee" Lena responded in a heartbeat.

"What were you thinking?" Oliver asked, cutting off any replies. He asked sternly, walking to stand before her in his full costume, although of course Lena had worked it out by now, dropping her gaze as his voice took a cold tone. "Why were you working with them?"

A silence filled the space, awkward and dead, as they all waited for Lena's answer, Felicity stopping with the medical kit in her hands.

"It was what I had to do," she finally replied evenly.

"How was that 'what you had to do'?" Oliver shouted.

"Oliver," Felicity hissed, going over to her sister with the med kit and beginning to pull things out, bandages and pills, "it can wait. Leave it 'till she's fixed."

"It can't wait. We need to know."

"I'm telling you that it can."

"Do what you have to do, she can still talk at the same time" he snapped, "but don't give her any painkillers, I want her awake."

Lena shook her head, turning to her sister thankfully, "It's okay. I don't want them anyway."

Oliver straight-out laughed at that, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow, "think you're above feeling pain?"

"No, I just think it is better not to rely on things like that, in case you're ever in a situation where they're not available to you. Builds up a resistance," Lena answered bluntly, meeting his sarcasm, "it's strategic."

"Right," Oliver looked a bit put out at her logic before pouting again angrily. "You still haven't answered the question."

"I know."

Felicity leaned into her sister's ear, whispering quietly, "Please don't make this worse."

After a glance at her sister's pleading face, Lena sighed. "When I was sixteen, mom had been living with her condition for seven years – but it had got so much worse. There came a time when she couldn't work anymore, and we began to struggle, so I started taking shifts in local bars whenever I could outside of school. It was hard, but for a few months we got by – mom could have gone to a hospice for help, but they would have kept her there all alone – I couldn't do that to her. But after a while, the bills kept piling up and up and even the little work I'd managed to get wasn't enough. So I had to think of another way."

"You went to the mob?" Sara asked loudly, disbelief written all over her face. "That's brave."

"That was stupid," Lena admitted grimly, as Felicity began to wrap up her obviously broken ribs, "by that time, I'd already started to steal things and gotten pretty good at it." At the look Oliver sent her, she rolled her eyes, "what? I stuck to the code!"

"What code?" Oliver asked, confused.

"Thieves have rules," Roy answered from behind him, as he had been watching the exchange intently. The younger man shared a nod with Lena, both thieves, both having seen rough times – they understood one another.

"There's honour among them – more so than most politicians nowadays" Lena agreed frankly, "you don't steal from smaller stores – chain stores can afford to foot the bill, they can't; you take what you _need_, not what you _can_ . . ."

"Okay I get it," Oliver snapped, cutting off her listing. "So what?"

"I had a reputation, simple as that."

"Wait a second," Felicity interrupted quickly, looking at Lena in confusion, "I've been sending money back home since I first got a job; thousands of dollars since then."

The younger girl shook her head, "nothing ever came."

"How?"

"We can find that out later," Oliver said firmly, looking at Lena, but more softly, "please go on."

"Thank you," Lena ignored him to speak to Felicity, face vulnerable, "if you really did send things, I mean. I always thought you'd just forgotten us."

"I'm just sorry I couldn't even help in that way," her sister replied. The regret was evident in her voice, and before she could stop herself Lena had reached up with her small hand and taken her sister's, squeezing it tightly once. Their gazes locked and said a lot, most of all, the beginning of forgiveness, before the younger girl turned her gaze back to Oliver to speak again.

"What else do you want to know?"

"You've barely told us anything," Oliver pointed out, "you might have told us why you did it, but not what you've done."

Lena looked down at her feet, which were swinging from the edge of the table. "I was kinda hoping you'd spare me that shame. I'm not proud of what I've had to do."

"You can't always get what you want."

"Fine!" Lena threw her hands in the air, exasperated at his attitude, but grimaced in pain afterwards. Felicity had begun to wrap the bandages around her lower back but had run out of room, so Lena obediently pulled her top off to let her finish wrapping up her broken ribs, leaving her in only her bra in the middle of the room. Although the girl herself was unabashed, Roy and Diggle, who had been silently pacing up until now, averted their eyes. Lena smirked, defiantly staring right at the angry interrogator Oliver, who remained standing in front of her, "now I ain't never seen a man in a mask blush so much. It's not too good at hiding your face, Mr. Queen, so why don't you take it off. If I'm telling you everything about me, I think it's time you all stopped hiding."

After a tense moment, Oliver pulled down his hood and took of his mask, finally meeting her eyes with his own. Sara did the same, and all of team Arrow were unmasked and exposed. Lena looked over them all.

"Much better."

"How did you work it out?" Sara asked.

"When I was following you," Lena answered, "you guys aren't that subtle when it comes down to it. All I had to do was follow Felicity here, work out that whenever she did come here the Vigilante seemed to strike, and put two and two together."

"And now we can all see each other, maybe it's time we learned the truth about you," Oliver pushed again. He was still standing a few feet away, determinedly holding her gaze.

"Like how did you get these scars?" Felicity asked suddenly. She had stayed silent while they were speaking, but took advantage on the break to comment on the scars crossing her sister's back which had been revealed when she had taken off her shirt. Most of them cut across her shoulders, but there were a few in her side and one on her neck. All of the others looked over at this despite her semi-nakedness, even Roy and Diggle.

"I was getting to that. When I went to the mob to borrow the money, I thought at first that I could pay it off myself – I dropped out of school completely, got a full-time job – for a while, we managed like that. I just paid different people. But eventually the bills piled up again and I was left in a corner -"

"They did this to you? Did they beat you up or something?" Felicity asked.

"No, of course not," Lena shook her head. "You misunderstand how they work – I was just a kid, they weren't going to put me in the hospital, but like I said, I already had a reputation as a decent thief. So they offered me a new deal – as long as I worked for them, they'd keep paying mom's medication bills, the rent, give us money for food and electricity. Hurting me would only make it harder for me to pay, this way, they get a new protégée."

"So that's when you started working for them," Oliver said.

Lena nodded, "They spent the first few months training me – how to fight, how to move quicker and more quietly, how to use weapons, how to disable alarms and what to do if I ever got caught – that's how I got most of those scars. Some came later of course, when I was out there doing jobs, but most were from the training. It made me tough, harder than I thought I could be. Then when it was all done, my contract began."

"Do they hurt?" Felicity asked, stopping her from moving on with concern, "any of these injuries, do they still hurt?"

"A few twinge from time to time, you get used to it."

"You shouldn't have had to, not at that age. I'm so sorry."

"Hey," Lena turned to her sister with a small but genuine smile, "crying about it isn't going to change anything. I'm okay. Look, you're helping me now – bandages and everything, I feel spoiled."

Diggle finally spoke up, his voice deep and rumbling. "Have you had a lot of injuries? Seen a lot of action?"

Lena met his steady gaze and recognised the soldier there; it was one she saw in herself some days, although they fought a war from different sides. "Yes, sir." She nodded, "more than I care to think about."

"And what were you doing for them?" Oliver asked.

"At first, I was just a getaway girl – I stayed by the doors, got everyone out. Then I was just a thief, before they realized I was the best damn one there. I was the quietest, the least likely to be seen, and within a year I was working solo jobs, stealing jewellery and antiques from some of the safest places in the city. They never caught me. After a while, they started to come to me whenever a job needed planning, so I was back to working on a team doing bank jobs or heists. I was never more than a thief, though, you should know that. Any of the other stuff I never saw – I was never involved in it. I've never taken a life," she explained. "And whenever I was working a job like that, I'd always plan it so that nobody ever got hurt if I could help it. After a while people respected me too, I was able to rein back my team."

"Doesn't make it okay," Diggle said frankly, "a thief is a thief, whatever way you swing it."

Lena tilted her head in acknowledgement. "I'm not making excuses; I'm just answering as honestly as I can. I know what I've done is wrong."

"You seem awfully proud of it."

"I'm a high school dropout – I have no other skills. This is all I know."

"Then it's time you learned better," Oliver announced loudly. Although he spoke to Lena, his eyes met Felicity's, who nodded slightly in thanks, "now you're here you're safe. We've taken out the crew on the docks and you can live with Felicity, work with us to take down the rest-"

But despite his optimism, Lena interrupted loudly, "That's not gonna happen."

"Excuse me?"

"I've got to go back," she shrugged. "Home, I mean. I've got to speak to the guys I work for and fix this. If not, they'll end up fighting with the guys here, and you'll have two wars to fight."

"Trust me, running from it won't help."

"Running? I'm not even doing that," Lena laughed bitterly, hating herself, "I'm still working for them, and I'm still grateful for what they've done."

"How can you be grateful?" Roy asked from behind them, confused. "They just gave the order to kill you. That means you're not with them anymore."

"No. The people here in Starling just gave that order – not the people I work for back home. They're going to be furious. And that means retaliation," she looked around team Arrow, for once serious, "You don't want gang warfare like that on your streets, trust me. I've seen it and it's not pretty. I've got to go back and sort it before that happens."

"And then?" Felicity asked, taking a step away from her sister, "are you just going to work for them again? Disappear?"

"No! Maybe, I don't know . . ." Lena said, pushing her hair away with her hand in frustration, "now mom's gone I have no reason to stay with them, so I might come back in a while. But not until it's fixed and I know my debt is cleared. You won't understand, but I still feel like I owe them. And despite what you may think, it's not so bad a life – from what I've seen of yours, it's pretty dangerous here in Starling. Back home it's less of the whole 'super-villain' thing, more . . . 'Goodfellas'" she joked.

"Do you think it's a joke? Gangs like that are dangerous" Diggle said.

"I'm not joking. But they were only ever people – sure, we stole and lied and cheated our way for money, but we also borrowed it to folks who needed it. People like me."

"And turned them into weapons, apparently," Oliver claimed, "can't you see you've been brainwashed to believe its okay? It isn't. You're breaking the law; you've got to stop."

"I never did anything I didn't think was necessary. It's not a big deal – just paying off a debt, that's all this is."

"How can you think that? It makes you a criminal! Does that mean nothing to you?"

"You weren't there!" Lena shouted, getting to her feet. She shook, but she stood. Her eyes were wet with tears as she shouted at Felicity, "I might be a criminal, but it was worth it. All the pain and lying, I'd do it all again. I'd do it for the rest of my life if I had to because I am so grateful for what they did for us. Mom and I got to stay together because of the money they gave us. She didn't have to go to some hospital where nobody cared about her, and I didn't end up in the foster system or on my own. I owe them the last three years we had together, and that meant the world."

Felicity's tone was quiet, "how could mom let you do this to yourself?"

"She just didn't want to die alone!" Lena screamed after a moment's shocked silence at her sister's words. Felicity jerked back, but she kept talking, the words spewing from Lena's mouth like venom. "You right though – none of it mattered in the end. She did anyway. I was out on a job, and when I came back she was gone. I found her dead in _our_ home. The only reason I did this – all of it – was that one night after you left she drank a little too much and told me that her biggest fear was dying alone. I promised that wouldn't happen, but I let her down anyway."

"Lena-"

"So maybe you're right, I am just some worthless, scum of the Earth _criminal_ – so why do I deserve any better than this? Why does it matter if I go to prison or back to the gang when I've got no place better to be? I said she wouldn't die alone. She did anyway."

The youngest Smoak siblings face was broken as she bitterly finished, but she did not cry, barely standing. She looked down at this, and Felicity too felt her eyes grow hot, barely holding it in as she looked desperately on, unsure what to say. She couldn't fix this, or make it better, no one could. After a time, Lena took a breath and wiped her tears away, pulling on her shirt before looking on them all before her gaze stopped on Oliver, the leader.

She spoke; her voice husky but determined. "I owe them a debt and nothing could ever be enough to pay them back for those years. I'm nothing but a person of my word, and I have a feeling you of all people will understand that."

"I'm sorry, but even if I understand, it doesn't mean I can just turn the other way," Oliver explained sympathetically although his tone was wired. "I have money, you could pay them back. But if you go back to them and end up back in Starling working for the people we fight, I'll have no choice. I will stop you. But if you stay, I'll protect you."

"Then you can shove it," Lena replied, but sadly, "I'll keep my word, even if it's to bad people. It's all I have."

"Then that makes you an enemy."

"No," Felicity interrupted, shaking her head and moving to stand in between her sister and Oliver, "you won't. I won't let you do anything which could hurt her."

Oliver's mouth set into a thin, angry line. "Felicity-"

"No! I have put up with a lot of crap from you, but I won't let you do this. If she says she's trying to stop a gang war on our front porch, I trust her, but don't you threaten my sister." Felicity was standing in his face now, eyes clearing, replaced by burning intensity. She was standing up to Oliver, but for once didn't even think twice about whether it was right. "So back off."

"Let me do this," Lena added, "let me thank you for saving me by stopping a war on your doorstep. Because if they think I'm dead, or a traitor, nothing good will come of it. At least if I go back I can explain."

"It's the fact that you're still considering working for them which worries me!" Oliver argued.

"I'll come back. Whether that's in a week, a month or a year, I will come back here." Lena promised, "For my family. But only when my debt is considered settled."

"And everything you'll have to do in between? The lying and stealing? Am I just supposed to pretend it never happened?"

"Do what you want; I've always done what I've had to." In the end, Lena almost smiled. "Maybe when I get back we can have a vigilante boot-camp and I can help you, make up for what I've done with some good."

"No!" Felicity shouted, "I'm not agreeing with him, but you can't just leave! I won't let you."

"Fee, you lost the right to tell me what I can and can't do years ago." Lena nodded sadly before starting to walk away, towards the entrance to the club. She got to the door, but this time she looked back. Oliver and Diggle looked angry at her, Sara and Roy looked away, and Felicity – she looked broken. "Don't look at me like that, Fee. Don't you do that." Lena said, shaking her head as tears glistened in her eyes. She didn't want to leave, she had to. "I'll see you, hopefully soon. I've got to go home."

"You're not going home!" Felicity yelled, growing angry, "you're running back to the mob."

"There's no other way-"

"There's always another way! You're just being a coward and taking the easy way out. You could stay here and be a hero but you're going back to them."

"I owe them," Lena shrugged simply, "and it might be the easy way out, but that's me I guess."

She opened the steel door and passed through it before anyone could speak, leaving them standing alone in the Foundry. After a moment, Felicity ran after her sister, but by the time she got to the door Lena had vanished, a shadow once more.

* * *

**A/N: **_sorry it's a huge chunk of text this time! um, so my nan got sick yesterday and I've been at the hospital so much I've not had time to write, I'll update when I can. So I got to thinking the other day that I could write in the whole 'Ivo is Felicity's dad' theory with this story - if he went after the mirikuru to save a slowly dying wife and his two girls, that would be a little more human and forgivable, no? And the phone call he made on the ship to someone who couldn't remember his name would make sense, given their mom's illness. what do you think - should I do it? Thanks for your reviews, as always - keep it up!_**  
**


	9. Terminal

'Terminal'

That night, at about one twenty in the morning, Sara Lance walked into a bar in the glades. It was a real dive, motorcycles parked outside in the dozens and a cheesy burnt-out light hanging over the bar, smashed glasses and broken stools lining the floor; there were three pool tables in various states of damage in the corner, a heavy cloud of smoke filling the room. As she walked in confidently, people glared at Sara. She was just herself this time, golden hair spilling out over her shoulders, brown leather jacket hugging her form as she wandered over to the bar, making her feel exposed without her mask.

"Rum and coke" she said, when a grisly looking bar tender stood before her, nodding once. It had taken her a few hours of searching, but she'd finally found the right place, the stool beside her occupied, the occupant looking up as she spoke.

Lena was drunk and held her head in her hands, "Listen, I don't need a lecture on why this is wrong. So if that's why you're here, you might as well leave."

"I'm here for a drink."

"Oh," Lena frowned at her frankness, "well I guess that's okay then."

After her drink came, Sara took a few sips, quietly watching the girl beside her. The grim bar seemed to suit her, the lights too low to see her tired eyes or the fact that she had been crying. Felicity's sister was drinking bottles of beer and whiskey, the smell lingering on her clothes; her eyes kept falling shut, half-dazed as they were. She had been there for a few hours, drinking it all to oblivion.

"The other's thought you'd be long gone, but I knew better," Sara said after a while, sipping her drink as little as possible, knowing she needed to be focused, "going back to that life is no small decision. I knew you'd think on it for a few hours. Is your decision still the same?"

"It is."

"I'm honestly not surprised. Oliver and Diggle have their whole 'honour' military-like thing, and your sister is just trying to hold onto you with both hands so you don't get away, but I have a feeling you're more like me and Roy."

Lena's nose scrunched up in confusion, "how's that? You're all freaking super-vigilante good guys."

"I wasn't always." Sara said, taking another sip of her drink. In her state, Lena was more obvious than she usually was, losing her edge; the mixture of surprise and impression on her face was clear. She looked at the other woman until Sara went on, pretending to be casual despite her plan. "A while ago, I worked for people a hell of a lot worse than the people you work for. And I mean that as genuinely as possible. But I never really understood how lost I had got until I got out – these guys, _your sister_ – they taught me a better way after years believing I was only good for one thing. And would you believe Roy got dragged into all of this when he stole a purse?"

"Now that I believe," Lena laughed breathily, ordering herself another drink upon finding her own empty with a frown; Sara watched this sadly. "Does that beautiful story have any purpose apart from the obvious 'you can change your ways' one?"

"Absolutely none," Sara admitted, "I was hoping the obvious one would be enough."

"It isn't."

"Lena, you have another choice here. Do both. Call whoever you work for here to Starling and I'll help you to come to an agreement with them that settles your debt and lets you stay here and start over."

"What if I don't want to stay?"

"How could you not?" Sara asked in an angry whisper, eyebrows turning down on her face as she gave the girl a sideways look. "You have your sister here, we can help you, and you could start a new life . . ."

"It's too late."

"You're _nineteen_."

"Doesn't matter," Lena replied tonelessly, "I've always known what I was getting in to. Yeah, it was to help mom, but I always knew it wouldn't end with her – I figured my life would be simple: watch out for mom, do this for a few years, probably get killed in some accident on a job. Short and simple."

"Why would you plan for that?"

"Because it's better than living to end up getting diagnosed with the same thing as mom and dying slowly," the younger girl answered. Her face was turned away, but the tiredness was painted there. She was in pain from the day, but it was deeper than that, and it occurred to Sara that really, Lena Smoak was a person who had never been given the opportunity to live. Her life was spent caring for her mother, fighting to survive, paying off her debts – she was older than her age in spirit. Of anyone, she could understand that.

"You don't know that will happen-"

"It could," Lena replied, almost spitting out the words, she looked at Sara, eyes glassy, "I'm scared of it. I'd rather die young than live like that."

"How will you know if you never try? You could have a sister and a normal life. Maybe this can be the end of it, whatever suffering you've been through."

The girl looked up, "Did it ever end for you?"

"It's starting to," Sara admitted, small smile playing on her lips as she turned back to her glass, swirling the drink around the bottom. "I feel like I'm finally making up for all the bad with some good, with a little help from some good friends. I got my family back not too long ago and that was a dream come true. My sister . . . we were estranged like you and Felicity – we're making things better now."

"So how can you not understand?" Lena asked, hair flying as she turned on her drinking companion, "you claim to have been in some tough situation just like me, and know the whole 'broken family' gig well, so why can't you see that what I'm doing is for the best?"

"'Cause it isn't. You think it is, but it isn't."

"If I don't explain that I'm not a traitor there could be trouble!"

"When I left the league of assassins, my ex-girlfriend showed up and waged a one-woman war on Starling to try and bring me back," Sara laughed, "I get it."

"League of Assassins?" Lena asked incredulously, only making Sara laugh harder.

"Whenever I say that sentence, people either go for the 'League of Assassins' or the 'ex-girlfriend' part."

"I'll bet they do -"

"The point is – when I was with the League, I pretty much would have done anything for them. I felt even after years that I owed them my life, so I didn't even question some of what I had to do until I found a reason to leave."

"What was that?"

"Family," Sara answered passionately, "they might have helped you, but your deal is done. Find a way out of the agreement, make a home instead."

For the first time, Lena looked conflicted, "I can't."

"You've worked for them for years, as long as they helped you and your mother – that was your debt. You don't owe them any more than that," shaking her head, Sara leaned over to put a hand on Lena's arm, "you don't owe them your life."

"However short it may be," Lena added sarcastically.

"You can't think like that. Please, let me help."

"Why would you? Because from my experiences, 'help' always comes with a price."

Sara shrugged, "I guess you remind me of myself. And I owe Felicity my life – she took a bullet for me once, you know? Plus, when I was looking for a reason to try again I looked to my friends and family: my dad has his badge, he saves people every day; my sister, she's a lawyer – always the smart one – yours is too, in her own way. She's been doing this longer than I have, and Felicity is brave. Maybe you can make each other better."

"How could _I_ make _her_ better?" Lena asked confused. She had stopped drinking. "She's a hero."

"But she's not happy" Sara said.

"That's true," the younger girl nodded in acknowledgement, "When I was watching her for those few weeks, I worked out what she was doing and who she worked for pretty quickly. I wondered how on earth my computer-nerd sister was doing working with the Arrow – but on some nights, when you'd all gone out, after a few hours when I'm guessing you were kicking whichever bad guy's ass was in your way that day – she'd come outside the club. She would either stand against the wall or sit on the kerb, and she'd scream or cry. I guess that was when I worked out that she didn't need me anymore – she has another family now; she cares more than you think. Maybe in future you shouldn't leave her alone or hanging."

"Maybe that can be your job," Sara suggested.

"I- I'm still not sure. What if I get sick one day and she leaves again? People always leave."

"She won't," Sara answered. Then, as the bar was getting steadily quieter around her, even the occasional clicking of pool cues fading away to just the dull music playing in the background, she got to her feet, pulling Lena to hers. The other girl stumbled at the sudden movement, the smell of the booze coming off her in waves, so Sara caught her and helped her walk outside. "Listen, I'll tell you what we're going to do: first, we can't have the others seeing you like this, you're a state, so I'm going to take you to my place to sleep it off; then tomorrow, we're going to talk to your Coast City employer and sort out the matter of your alliances; last, you're going to learn how to shoot an arrow. Got it?"

"You had me at 'sleep'" Lena slurred.

Rolling her eyes, Sara slung the girl's arm around her shoulders and hailed a cab, "oh kid, you're lucky I'm not the type to take pictures of this for blackmail."

* * *

Once they were at Sara's apartment and Lena was asleep on the couch, hair spilled out of the purple cushions like a distorted halo, Sara stood in the kitchen and called Oliver. She knew he'd be worried about where she had been, and maybe still pissed off from earlier, so she knew calling was the best idea. It rung a few times before he answered.

"Sara. Did you do it?"

"Wait, do what?" she asked, suddenly confused.

"Stop Lena, convince her to stay," Oliver replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. When her mouth fell open but Sara had no reply, he continued, "I know you too well, remember? I knew you'd find a way to talk her around. So is it sorted?"

"Almost – there's one more thing to do tomorrow, and I'm sure you'll have her hitting bullseyes by next week."

"Okay" he replied simply.

"Okay?"

"I trust you," Oliver said, hearing the question in her voice. "Whatever you have to do, do it. I'm at Felicity's now, she's . . . . well, I don't think she could lose her sister twice. If she needs to sort her debt then please, help her – but get Lena back here. Forget what I said earlier, we can help her."

Sara nodded, "I know."

"Are both of you okay? Are you safe?"

"We will be soon enough." Sara answered, "you should get back, but don't say anything to Felicity yet."

Oliver sounded confused, "why not?"

"Because false hope is the worst kind."

He sucked in a tight breath on the other end of the line. He knew it was true, but refused to believe that there was any outcome to this other than fixing a family, and his friend. "Hope can be good too though, I for one hope this works out. Might be funny to try and turn a team into a family."

Sara's lips curved into a smile, "does that make us the parents?"

"_Damn it_."

"I know, you as a father with all that responsibility? – scary thought," Sara teased, to his mock outrage, as the two of them tried to hold back their laughter. "Anyway, goodnight. Give Felicity my love."

"Will do."

Oliver rung off, leaving Sara alone in a darkened kitchen, as he returned to their friend. Sparing a final look to the peacefully sleeping girl on her couch, she considered sloping off to her bed when she was distracted by movement – although she was clearly still sleeping, Lena's hands clenched into fists in the cushions; her face kept twisting into an expression of discomfort. In a moment, Sara recognised the symptoms – nightmares. She'd had enough of her own. So, instead of sleeping in a comfortable bed, Sara Lance wandered over to the armchair in the corner of the room, tucking up her feet and settling down to sleep.

* * *

Lena woke up first, the sunlight filtering through the widow enough to make her blink awake; the room coming into focus around her. Sara's place was simply furnished, a few family photos, a couch, a table – it looked only half lived in. Like she expected to have to up and go any minute. Most times, the places Lena stayed looked similar, so she understood the orderly fashion of the place – it was easy to pack, easy to run from. But as she looked around, she noticed some clothes lying on the floor, the start of a mess setting in, like she was making roots. From her glances around, Lena concluded that Sara Lance expected to stay here for a long time, perhaps for the first time in years.

"Ugh," Lena choked out when she finally tried to move, the taste in her mouth a bitter bile, head pounding. Upon swallowing, she tasted blood and stale alcohol, memories of her beating and the subsequent binge drinking flashing back to her, regret not the only thing digging at her guts. She sat groggily up, running her hands through her hair, as Sara woke on the chair in the corner, smiling at the girl's ashen face smugly.

"That's what you get when you try and drink a shitty bar like that out of business," Sara laughed, getting up and hearing Lena moan before walking over to the kitchen, "I'm sure there's some aspirin in here somewhere."

"Forget that – can I have a sedative until this has worn off?"

"Hey, you made that bed; you've got to lie in it now. Maybe next time you'll think twice before drinking your own body weight in beer."

Lena made a joking face, "that doesn't sound like me . . ."

"Here," Sara rolled her eyes as she handed the girl a few painkillers and a glass of water, "take these and get washed up. I meant everything I said last night. Today we're getting in touch with your Coast City guys and sorting this out."

"Mmmnnn."

"Don't you change your mind just 'cause you're sober," Sara said, sitting down next to her new friend. She looked as serious as she could muster, a look of concern usually reserved for friends flitting across the line of her brow. "I saw you last night, and I think that's the most honest I've ever seen you. You want to make things right with your sister. And the only way to do that is to stay, so we're going to settle this debt of yours one way or another."

"I'm . . . not changing my mind," Lena said slowly. She looked around the empty room as she spoke, hands playing with the edges of her coat. The gesture was childlike, although she was far from innocent, and it hurt Sara's heart to see, knowing she did the same sometimes. "I guess I'm just a little nervous. Don't want to mess it all up again. Are you sure they don't all hate me?"

"I'm sure," Sara said. Then she grinned, only a hint of sarcasm creeping into her tone, "We'll all be one big family – I'm sure there's a trick or two left to teach you."

Just as Lena laughed, there was a knock at the door, and Sara ran to answer it. As it clicked open, Laurel walked right in as she always did, but halted with a confused look on her face when she realized they weren't alone, turning to her sister.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you had company," Laurel said as Sara came back into the room looking trapped, gaze flicking between Lena and her sister.

"Um, it's no worries. Lena, this is my sister, Laurel," Sara explained, with a pointed 'she doesn't know' look.

Lena nodded, face turning up in recognition, "Right – the lawyer?"

"Attorney, actually" Laurel corrected without thinking about it. When it occurred to her that the words had come out sharply or worse, rudely, her face softened. "And you'd be . . . ?"

"This is Lena. Do you remember Felicity, Oliver's friend?" Sara asked, purposely using the word 'friend' instead of 'executive assistant', as she was trying to be kinder to her fellow girl on the team. Laurel had often been forgetful concerning Felicity, or drunkenly mean, so she was only trying to be a friend, which she was.

"Yeah, sure," Laurel said uncertainly, looking confused.

"This is her sister. We met the other day when I went to see Oliver."

"And she's in your apartment because . . ."

Sara almost laughed, "I found her a little down and drunk the other night. Thought I'd save her a family argument by bringing her here instead of letting her sister see her that way."

"Oh," Laurel finally smiled at the other girl, who was looking sheepish. "Wait, how old are you?"

"If I tell the truth are you gonna arrest me?" Lena asked with her own grin.

"Nah, I think we've all been there. Just don't let her spend too much time with Oliver, he used to be ten times worse and who knows what influence he'll be."

"Oh really?" Lena asked mischievously, "Now, it might be useful to get some dirt on my sister's employer. Care to share?"

"No!" Sara interrupted, sending them both a look as she crossed the room, laughing as she pushed Laurel out. They both ended up laughing, playing about as they got back to the front door, Lena reluctantly following. "I won't have you corrupting her so easily, Ollie's a good man."

"But he _was_ a teen troublemaker" Laurel pointed out. As Sara looked exasperated, Laurel and Lena shared a conspiratorial look, the eldest whispered, "Don't worry, I'll give you some dirt on them both soon. Just promise to use it well."

"Absolutely," Lena promised.

"Sisters are the worst," Sara pouted, but only jokingly. She was secretly pleased that they seemed to be getting on, knowing it was another wedge to keep Lena here. Also, Laurel was a pretty good judge of character, so her easy joking and trust was a good sign, bringing out her sisterly nature. Oliver would trust her judgement too, as he was still on the fence about letting Lena join them. "I should have known this would happen. Right, we've got to go find Felicity, haven't you got work?"

"Yeah, I was only stopping by to say hi," Laurel nodded to Lena, "it was nice meeting you. I'm usually around at the D.A's office, just come and find me when you want that information."

"_Lau_rel," Sara groaned.

"I'm only kidding!" her sister laughed, holding her hands up and turning to leave. "Wait, I didn't catch your last name? Is it the same as Felicity's?"

Sara started to speak, "No-"

"Yes," Lena corrected quickly, "It didn't used to be, but Starling's kinda my fresh start." She nodded, reassuring herself. "From now on I want to be Lena Smoak."

* * *

**A/N: **_I wanted to put this up yesterday but this site kept glitching, I apologise! Hope you like!**  
**_


	10. The devil you know

'The devil you know'

It took a few hours to sort out, but by 5pm that day it was all arranged; Sara and Lena sat down in the empty Indian restaurant on the side of town and waited impatiently. Diggle showed up not long afterwards.

Lena looked up at this, eyes flashing, "What's he doing here?"

"He's here because I trust him to be the sensible one," Sara said. "You and I are very single minded and prone to bad choices, so Diggle is our balance. He's the only one who stops us all from killing each other, usually . . ."

"You'd better both hide then," Lena said, brushing it all aside with a shake of her head.

"Hide?" Diggle asked.

"We're only getting involved if we need to," Sara explained.

"Is that a good idea?"

"If she said she can handle it, she can handle it," the Lance sister claimed, sending Lena a look which told her not to let them down. Lena nodded slightly, and with a hand on Diggle's shoulder, Sara and him melted into the background, watching. That left the younger girl sitting at the table, looking drab in comparison to the lavish restaurant around her, candles on every table and ornamental elephants standing in the corner, jewelled and sparkling.

She sat, playing with the napkin, for ten minutes before a man entered the restaurant, followed by two dark-suited goons. He paid the waiter to lock the door, dismissing his men and approaching the table where Lena sat with a small smile of familiarity. From where Sara stood, she watched the man carefully. He was a portly man, maybe fifty, completely obvious in an expensive dark suit and pepper-pot hair and moustache, but he didn't look nearly as threatening as the muscled men now stood at the bar, drinking but not taking their eyes off their boss. The next thing she noticed was Lena in fact grinned back at his approach.

"Hey, Pauly" she joked as he got closer, getting to her feet.

"Three years, and you're still making the same joke," the man said, opening his hands. With a huffed laugh, Lena hugged him briefly, grinning back at him. If anything, it was almost like she was meeting a favourite uncle, not a mob boss she'd been working for. "You know my name's Kevin."

"Yep."

"Are you ever going to change, kid?" Kevin asked as they both took back their seats, Lena comfortably leaning back in her chair. At his words, she ducked her head, and he noticed the change in her. "What is it?"

"That's kinda what I needed to talk to you about," Lena said, wincing slightly.

"I had a feeling this would be something big," Kevin nodded briskly. But when he looked back at her after scanning the restaurant, he raised an eyebrow at her. His accent held a distinct Brooklyn drawl, "Kid, what's the first thing I taught you?"

For a second, Lena had a startled, deer-in-the-headlights look on her face, until it collapsed in realisation, closing her eyes for just a second. When she opened them again, it was accompanied by an apologetic smile, "Never con a con-man."

"So . . .?"

"Come out, guys," Lena said loudly, turning around in her seat. At the look on her face, both Diggle and Sara appeared out of the shadows, taking a few uncertain steps towards them; when the men at the bar moved, Sara reacted defensively, until Kevin laughed and waved his men off.

"Please," he said, gesturing to the remaining seats at the table, "sit."

"Kevin, I can explain -" Lena said quickly.

"I think that would be a good start."

"You know I came here to talk to my sister?" she said, and he nodded after a moment. In their seats, Diggle and Sara sat uncomfortably, not sure whether they should speak, or even what to say. So, trusting she knew what she was doing, they let Lena do the talking. "Well, it turns out she was some um . . . _interesting_ friends."

"Your sister's BFF's with the Hood?" Kevin asked incredulously. His eyebrows rocketed as he looked between the three of them in surprise, until Sara gave a confirming shrug with a small smile. "That's awesome, if it didn't mean I'm probably getting an arrow now, right?"

"Of course not! As if I'd sell you out after you've everything you've done for me!" Lena yelled, leaning across the table. Her mouth was open and she looked offended that he'd even think that. After a moment looking mildly affectionate, Kevin shook his head. At his submission, Lena sat straight again, shaking off her angry quickly. "But it does change things – especially since my sister is a better person than I thought."

"She abandoned you."

"That's what I thought too. But it's not true and -"

"You want to try again?" Kevin guessed. Lena nodded. "I don't blame you, kid. Did you really think I would?"

She cocked an eyebrow, "No more than you think I'd sell you out to the Arrow."

"So what do you want to do?"

"Stay," Lena answered honestly, voice cracking. "I never meant for that deal the other day to go sour – they followed me, I was never a traitor. But I won't leave until my debt is paid."

"Kid, it's paid. A thousand times over." Kevin said earnestly, "you wanna buy a pair of tights and a cape to save the city, you go for it."

Lena laughed at that, head ducking in and eyes almost clothing completely, but she looked back up solemnly. "I'm grateful, you know. For what you did; I always will be."

"I respect that. So would it be an acceptable final request that if I were ever in desperate need, I could come to you?"

"Of course. Anything."

"Then good luck," Kevin stood, an action mimicked by the others, and extended a hand. With a mixture of astonishment and gratitude on her face, Lena accepted the handshake. "I bet you'll be a better hero than thief anyway. But Lena," he paused, growing serious, "I can cover for you for a while, make like you never left but eventually some of our . . . _mutual friends_ are gonna notice you're missing. And you know they're not going to like that."

Lena nodded once, but Sara and Diggle only looked confused. "I know."

"They'll come after you; I can't cover for you forever. They'll never stop coming."

"I have to try."

"Keep her safe," Kevin said slowly, looking at the two older people. His face was grave. Afterwards he shook both Sara's and Diggle's hands; he looked one more time at the girl in front of him. When he had met her, she had been a scrawny little thing, desperate for money, but boy had she grown in the last few years. It was a woman who stood in front of him now, changing her life, just as she should. "Keep in touch, kid. I'll cover for you with the people here too, but try not to be too obvious if you're working with the Arrow – it's bad for relations. I'll fix it. And it might be nice to know I won't get an arrow in me for stepping foot in town, if you could sort that out?"

Lena grinned, "Consider it done."

"We'll miss you, kid."

She smiled, "I'll visit. I'm not that easy to get rid of, haven't you learnt that by now?"

"But will you be able to say the same when the big guy comes for you?"

Kevin was gone in a moment, leaving the three left in the closed restaurant, his ominous advice ringing in Lena's ears. The kitchen staff reappeared magically, snapping back into work like they weren't even there, re-opening the place now Kevin was gone. After a moment, Diggle looked at Lena confusedly.

"He seemed . . . nice."

"The nicest people are sometimes capable of the worst things," Lena shrugged. "Not that I think he's a bad person. Yes, it's bad means to an end, but he helps people like me who really need it. There's not much more to say but that."

"Is that your final word on all of this? One meeting and you're done?" he asked.

"I'll always be that person, but people change. If anything Felicity is showing me that now."

"Do you want to go tell her the good news?"

Lena shook her head. She looked at them both, turning to face her new . . . allies. "Thank you for doing this – but I was hoping I could have a while to myself. It's not that I'm not happy, really, I am. But this is big for me. Three years I've been doing this and I feel like we're standing on the edge of a cliff and my safety line's just been cut. Like everything's about to change."

"But it's changing for the better," Sara smiled.

"Only time can tell on that one, I suppose. I just feel like I need to run or do something to get rid of all these odd feelings, like a sort of manic energy."

"I have an idea for that," the Lance sister supplied. She turned Lena around, and the three left together, stepping out into the evening. "I don't think it's a good idea you going off on your own right now, not with those guys from the docks still after you."

"Plus, you don't have to be on your own anymore. Not now you're here, and you're staying." Diggle said sincerely, as they all got into his car. He grinned at her in the mirror before he pulled away, "You might as well get used to hanging out with us quickly, if we're all going to be spending a lot of time together."

"So, what do you say? Shall I give you a secret archery lesson right now so when Oliver undoubtedly tries to teach you in a few weeks, you can pretend to be just naturally gifted?" Sara asked, revealing her plan.

It was this that seemed to win Lena over. "Okay," she said, "but only because I think the look on his face when that happens will be priceless. You better bring a camera."

Sara and Diggle both laughed at that.

"You two are gonna be trouble, aren't you?" Diggle asked. The two women were in the backseat, sharing identical grins and mischievous looks. "Look at you – two peas in a pod."

"I just hope it's this easy with Felicity," Lena revealed, biting her lip. "We haven't been around in each other in so long. It's strange to think about. I don't know how long it will take to feel like we're sisters again."

"When I came back, it was straight away. I mean, she hated me at first, but after a few weeks I guess me and Laurel realized that there are more important things. You both will too," Sara said comfortingly.

"I hope you're right."

* * *

When they arrived at the Foundry, Roy was the only person there; standing in the middle of the room pummelling a punching bag. Although he wore no gloves and had not even bothered to wrap his hands up, his fingers bruised and bleeding as he kept hitting, he showed no sign of feeling the pain. As they walked down the stairs, Lena saw this and frowned. His face was dead; dead eyes, no emotion, nothing. The only sign that he felt anything was when fits of anger would occasionally glaze over his handsome features, contorting them to something ugly and animalistic. Lips turned down, his exposed torso was glistening with sweat, and he didn't even see them until they got to the bottom of the stairs and Sara cleared her throat loudly.

Stopping suddenly, he looked up and saw them, immediately stopping the punching bag in its motion. He had been coming back to the club more often in the past few weeks, first to help Felicity and now from general curiosity as to what would happen, although he was still mad at Oliver and held a cold tone whenever the two spoke. On days like today, he would come by to train when nobody was there, so was surprised at the unlikely trio's entrance.

"Oliver and Felicity are at home," he told them.

"We know," Diggle replied, walking over to the table with Lena, who dropped some of her stuff onto the table casually, taking a seat in Felicity's chair. She glanced around, looking oddly out of place in her raggedy clothes, even more so than Roy often felt. Diggle explained to Roy with a significant look at the girl, "This is a time-out to _not _think."

"Oh," Roy said, and could think of nothing more to add to that.

Sara, on the other hand, had busied herself around the place. In minutes, she had placed a few small targets on the far wall, the opposite direction from Felicity's computers, knowing she would be in trouble if they got damaged by an amateur archer, and hand tried the weight and size of a few bows until she found one which would be appropriate for Lena. Walking back over, the other girl got to her feet as Sara reached them, handing her the bow.

"What's this?" Lena asked.

"One of Oliver's old bows, good for learners," Sara explained. "You ready?"

"I guess I'll get out of your way, ladies," Roy shrugged, pulling the punching bag off the metal frame it was hanging on and carrying it across the room as if it was no heavier than a bag of feathers. Lena looked impressed by this, eyes squinting.

"How are you . . .?"

"Oh right," Diggle half-laughed, "You're not up to score yet, are you? Well there's a psycho creating an army of super-soldiers with a serum called 'mirikuru' and Roy here got given it."

"Obviously, how did I not guess that?" Lena nodded sarcastically, "magical boost-juice serum to give people super-strength. Of course. That's completely normal."

"In case you haven't noticed yet, not of this is normal," Roy said, gesturing around the Foundry as he spoke, leaving her no choice but to tilt her head in agreement. Once the punching bag was put away he grabbed a towel and a grey shirt, pulling it over his head quickly. He walked over to them, picking up his own training bow as he did. "Hey Sara, can I get in on this?"

"I thought archery wasn't really your thing?" Sara asked. Truth was, since his cruel comments about her only being on Oliver's side because she was 'screwing' him, she had spent as little time as possible with the younger man. His anger was addictive, bringing out parts of her she tried to hide. On top of that, what he had said hurt because she and Oliver had been over for weeks at the time; the team just hadn't noticed them drifting apart yet. They were still close and still friends, but not intimate in that way anymore.

"Oliver tried to teach me, but I'm not a natural and he's a grumpy teacher," Roy explained with a shrug. "I have a feeling you'd be better."

"I- thank you," Sara said, nodding to tell him it was fine for him to stay. "The first thing you should try is to notch the damn arrow, you'd be surprised how often people do it wrong. Go ahead." Both of her 'students' complied, Roy hooking his own arrow with a fluid motion from practise, his lessons with Oliver showing through despite his complaints about them. On the other hand, Lena's dropped to the floor a few times, her finger fumbling, until it stayed connected to the bow, held loosely in her hands. Once she was done, she looked patiently back to Sara for instruction. "Okay now, try and pull back the arrow like you're about to shoot it, but don't yet."

"Like this?" Lena asked, pulling her arm back and the arrow with it.

"That's alright, actually," Sara commented. Lena's back was straight, one foot instantly moving in front of the other to give her better balance, and the arrow was pulled back fairly tightly, proving the strength they all suspected she had. Of course, Roy's stance was better from his lessons, but still not quite perfect.

"But . . ."

"But the two of you might just be the biggest pair of hotheads I've ever met in my life, and you're both too stressed out and tense, it throws your aim off. Relax a little. Try and lower your back arm as much as you possibly can," she told them, moving Lena's arm down as she said it to a better position; pushing Roy's back foot inwards a fraction with her own, "pull it closer to your chest, as far as you can, it will make the shot tighter, refine your aim. Breathe. Relax. When you're ready, try to focus on the target and shoot."

After a few minutes silence in the Foundry, both of the younger kids shifting until they felt comfortable, Sara standing behind them and even Diggle leaning up from the table where he sat in interest, Roy let his arrow loose first. It flew true, hitting the centre of the target, although it was a little lower than a full bullseye. He grinned in relief, Sara's patience helping him to relax and she was right; it improved his aim. He smiled at her, and she back, before turning back to Lena, still concentrating on the target.

Counting to three in her head, after seeing her friend's shot out of the corner of her eyes and feeling a mixture of pride and competition, Lena made her own shot – the arrow left her bow and twisted through the air, hitting the target on her first go. It was way wide, on the left of the target, but it stuck, and she hadn't hit a wall. That was good enough for her.

"You did better than me – I shot out the electricity on my first try," Roy told her when she turned to him with a giant smile, clapping her once on the shoulder.

"Hmmnn, I bet Oliver wasn't too happy at that," she said.

Roy hung his head, "Oh no, he was not . . ."

"Well done," Diggle yelled from the back of the room, distracting them. "Not a bad first try. Incredible, in fact."

"I have a secret to admit," Lena said, holding up her hands in defeat, bow in one. "I was trained as a knife-thrower as part of my training. It's not quite archery, but it helps your aim."

"Really?"

"She's right," Sara agreed, "knives and arrows aren't that different. I'm guessing they taught you how to shoot a gun, too."

"Yeah. But funnily enough, archery was a little too fairytale archaic to be on the curriculum. There's a knife in my pocket, throw it here," Lena said, handing her bow to Roy, who took a step away. After rifling through her pockets for a moment, Diggle drew out an ornately handled knife, a few inches long, looking at it sceptically in his hands.

"And you're carrying this around with you?" Diggle asked.

"What? Only for protection," she shrugged.

Rolling his eyes, Diggle tentatively tossed it over, although he needn't have been worried. The girl caught the knife like it was magnetised to her hand, moulding into it perfectly after years of use. After twisting it with an expert flick of her wrist once, Lena turned, in one fluid motion twisting to face the target, not even having to stop her movement to aim before the knife let her hand. It was natural; the weapon flew through the air, spiraling wildly – until it landed in the dead centre of the target with an audible thump.

Although she leaned back on her heels, nonplussed and almost critical at the amount she had allowed the knife to spin, the rest of the team stood in a shocked silence. They stayed that way, open-mouthed, until she turned back to them, the smile dying on her face. "What? Did I do something wrong . . .?"

"No, of course not -" Sara shook her head, snapping out of it. "That's just-"

"Cheating!" came a shout from the steps. A second later Oliver appeared, followed by Felicity. He pretended to be angry, but it was hard to hide a smile. "Sara! Giving her extra lessons - how could you? Taking away all my fun . . ."

"Damn it, he caught us," Sara laughed to Lena as the other two members of the team approached, all of them wearing smiles. "Our evil plan failed."

"Not completely," Oliver replied thoughtfully, looking at the board. "You did that?" he asked Lena, who nodded tentatively after a moment. But he only grinned all the wider, "finally, someone I can work with."

"Hey!" Roy shouted, but all of their joking about was silenced by a few words from Felicity, who had not smiled and was only staring at her sister intently.

"You're here," Felicity said, and silence fell. She took a step closer, "does that mean . . .?"

"I'm staying," Lena said, the edges of her mouth curling into a smile. Despite this, her eyes were rapidly moving, uncertain, and her hands pulled at the edges of her sleeve again subconsciously. "I mean, if you'll have me."

"I – of course I'll-" Felicity was too choked up to continue, the tears welling up in her eyes as her whole body crumpled in relief. She didn't even think about it as she took the last remaining steps forward, throwing her arms around her sister and pulling her tightly to her chest, safe.

Lena was momentarily startled, tensing up completely at the embrace, hands frozen at her sides. But after a second, she moved her hands up slowly, putting them on Felicity's back and returning the hug, squeezing her sister. It was the first hug they had shared in years, and it was easy. It was pure relief, shooting up and down Lena's veins like a drug, the feeling that everything was alright for the first time in ages like being high for her, joy lifting her spirits. Eventually, Lena succumbed to it, enjoying feeling safe, protected by someone else and not having to watch her own back constantly, putting her head on Felicity's shoulder and closing her eyes to the bliss of it; determined to hold on this tightly for as long as she could.

* * *

**A/N: **_IMPORTANT ON__E PLEASE READ. I have two plans for the rest of this fic and need you guys to tell me what to do. Please. Option 1 - I keep this fic purely contained to the Arrow canon, and it's a lot shorter, with a simpler plot. Option 2 - I do a much longer and more complex fic, with occasional expansion to the rest of the DC-verse, aka other members of justice league. tell me what to do, I'll do either. Please & thanking you in advance, and for all the great reviews so far. _


	11. Growing pains

_Over 100 follows already! I can believe it, thanks so much guys. _

* * *

'Growing pains'

For the first month, things went well. It wasn't always smooth and perfect, in fact, for the first week it was outright uncomfortably awkward. Felicity and Lena had been apart for so long that they had no idea how to act around one another. There were lots of over-polite conversations and skirting around subjects, and when Lena lived in the apartment with her sister they might have sat together for meals and TV, but most of the time it felt like there were oceans between them. Whatever it was that used to just click, that sisterly bond, had been worn away by the years; but it was still in some recess of their mind and covered in dust – they just had to find it again. It was like they were playing a balancing game, always tip-toeing, afraid to jump with both feet.

This feeling of unfamiliarity continued whenever Lena was with the rest of the team too – Oliver still didn't trust her completely, and everyone aside from Sara didn't know her well enough yet to consciously hang out.

It wasn't until the third week that things began to click into place.

"What are you doing up?" Felicity asked, blinking away the sleep in her eyes as she padded into her kitchen. It was the early hours of the morning, the sky still inky outside the window, but when she walked past on her way to the bathroom, she had noticed her sister sitting on the countertop, glass of water in her hand. Lena had been sleeping on her couch until she could find a more permanent place for herself, but Felicity was surprised to see her awake at that hour, especially as she was sitting alone in the dark, motionless, as if she had been there for a while. Frowning, the older sister flicked on the light, making them both blink heavily at the sudden change in brightness, wincing before their eyes adjusted.

"Just getting some water," Lena said, raising her glass with a tiny smile. "No need to worry, Fee."

But Felicity was not fooled in the slightest. Hooking one eyebrow, she pulled her fluffy white robe tighter around her shoulders, leaning with one arm against the fridge. "And how long exactly have you been getting water for?"

"What? Is it illegal now?"

"Why aren't you asleep?" Felicity asked, concerned now. Her sister was always extra biting and sarcastic when she was feeling low. "Are you not comfortable? Because if you want I'll sleep on the couch tonight, you can have my bed-"

"Oh, no," Lena shook her head. She was touched by the kindness, getting to her feet hurriedly and crossing the room, hands out. "Really, it's not that. It's just me. You've been so great, letting me stay here, thank you."

Although she still wasn't buying it, Felicity could see her sister's unease; her jaw was set, back tense. So instead of pushing it, a small smile crept onto her lips. "You won't be staying for long if you keep using up all my shampoo."

"I don't!" Lena yelled, mouth falling open.

"You so do," Felicity laughed.

"Shut up."

"Come on," the older sister said, jerking her head back towards the living room. After she took a few steps in that direction, she heard Lena start to follow, a smile appearing on Felicity's hidden face. The fact that she followed was a sign of trust. It reminded her of when they were small, and Lena would crawl into her bed to sleep with her when she had nightmares; Felicity would promise to watch over her all night. They'd both end up asleep, but that never mattered, as long as they were not alone. Things had changed a lot since then, but if there was one thing she could still do, it was chase away Lena's nightmares. She sat on the couch and turned on the small lamp in the corner, leaving all the other lights off so it cast a small, almost-fireside glow around the room.

"What are we doing?" Lena asked, taking a seat on the other end of the couch. She tucked her feet up as she sat, as she always did. Felicity had been starting to notice these things in the past few days, almost like she was meeting her sister again: Lena hummed out of tune as she worked, cut the crusts off her sandwiches, and had a habit of constantly fiddling with things, whether it be Felicity's stationary at the Foundry, anything in front of her, or the buttons of her coat.

"Whenever I can't sleep, I watch a movie" Felicity explained.

"You don't have to stay up for me."

"I want to," the older sister said, turning to face her sibling. She looked earnest, so eventually Lena just nodded. They could try to do the whole 'sister' thing, if only just for the next for hours. It might even work. It never hurt to try. Felicity smiled, "so, what do you want to watch?"

* * *

After that things got better, and soon they were arguing about what to watch on TV like sister's again, laughing and joking around. It didn't take much catching up when it came to family. It showed, and things got considerably warmer around the apartment.

Things got better in the Foundry too, aside from Oliver's tendency to be cold and naturally suspicious. One night, after a few hours of being trained to both navigate the computers in case Felicity ever needed to be somewhere else, and in hand-to-hand combat by Sara and Oliver, Lena was on her way upstairs with the Lance sister, who was working that night, when Roy caught them up. They were leaving Felicity in deep conversation with Oliver about something or other, knowing they'd be fine.

"Hey," Roy greeted, breathless as he ran up the last few stairs. Although both girls stopped, he looked more at Lena, "I was thinking that nobody's showed you around Starling yet. And just in case you're bored of only going to Felicity's place or here, maybe I could show you around. If you want to, that is."

"Actually that'd be great!" Lena said, a lot more enthusiastically than he expected, and he jerked back at her cheery attitude, used to her more bitter side. "I've been here for three weeks and I don't even know where to get a damn decent cup of coffee."

He laughed, "Okay. Do you wanna go now?"

"Will anything be open this time of night?"

"It's the city," Sara explained, sharing a look with the younger man. It comprised of mainly raised eyebrows and side-eyes, simply saying: 'oh, right, she's a coast girl'. "Things stay open later."

"Oh, I see how it is. Come on then, city boy, we'll see just how 'great' life here is," Lena said sarcastically, shaking her head and carrying on without them. The city/coast rivalry was a strong one, and she missed her hometown with its quietness and beach: there were too many buildings here in Starling and no matter what, their light always seemed to block out the stars.

Sara left them as they entered the club, going to the bar with a wave, ready to spend the next few hours mindlessly serving drinks. For some, it would be a grating job but she enjoyed the ordinary hours spent up there, a break from her crazy life below. Sara was happy to serve with a smile.

Roy and Lena carried on across the club, looking out of place, but only made it halfway until Thea crossed their path on her way to her office. She looked immaculate in blue, and Roy's heart ached in his chest at the sight of her; he stopped as she did, looking punched-drunk under her gaze. It was only when Sin, still dressed mostly in black with her signature wicked grin snapped her fingers repeatedly in front of his face that he was brought back to Earth. That unfortunately meant coming back to Thea's hurt but cold glare.

"Who's this then, your new whore?" Thea asked cruelly before anyone had chance to speak, and his mouth fell open.

"Mhnn. What, I didn't think I – do I?" Lena responded before he could even pick his jaw up at the floor. Felicity's sister looked down at her ragged jacket and jeans then back up at them with a thoughtful expression. She turned and shouted over her shoulder, aiming her words at the bar, "Sara! Hey, Sara, do I look like a whore?"

At the girl's shout, Sara looked up from her work in confusion. Lost for words, she simply stared at them for a moment exasperatedly, containing herself to mouthing 'what?' The exaggeration was not lost, and Lena was smirking when she looked back to them; Sin was holding back a laugh as Sara returned to her work, having no idea what was going on. Lena turned back to Thea, who looked quite taken aback at her odd humour, and held up a single finger, saying loudly, "I am nobody's whore."

"This is Lena," Roy blurted, shooting her a death-glare as he did. It told her to shut up, but Lena kept grinning impishly anyway, "Felicity's sister. Lena, this is Thea and Sin."

Thea remained cool in her tone, almost icy, "I had no idea that you and my brother's PA were that close."

"We have bi-weekly meetings about what it's like to work for the extremely difficult Queen family," Roy said nonchalantly, his old armour of not caring thrown back up in an instant, although an edge of teasing remained, a spark of hope. "Diggle and Sara come sometimes, too."

"You don't work for me anymore."

"But as a co-founder of the club, my attendance at meetings is crucial."

"I only go if there are doughnuts," Diggle said, appearing among the group. He had heard the exchange, having been stuck amidst the crowds of the club, struggling to fight his way through to go home. He said the words with a smile, sensing the tension in the air and trying to break it. It worked, as he looked around all of the teenagers took a step back, and he delivered the message he had been asked to. "Lena, Felicity said you can stay out as late as you want as long as Roy stays with you."

She quirked an eyebrow, "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself – and him, most likely."

"I don't doubt it, she just worries." Diggle explained, smiling at her to Roy's disdain, who he turned to next. "And she also begged you to please include places to buy clothes on your tour of the city."

Roy looked confused, "why?"

"Felicity says that if she washes that jacket one more time, she's sure it'll fall apart," Diggle said, side-eyeing Lena's worn out denim jacket as he did. It was years old, but she'd never really had the money to waste on new clothes, which she started to say before he cut her off. "Listen, I know you've taken care of yourself for the past few years, but you don't have to worry about money anymore. She just wants you to have something nice, I think, to try and make amends."

Lena laughed, "Are you suggesting that I can be bought?"

"No, just that she's fed up of washing the same three shirts over and over," Diggle joked back with a raised eyebrow. Lena made a face of outrage and hit him on the arm, and Diggle took his cue to leave – he was meeting Layla in half an hour for date-night, on this rare occasion that he had an evening off. He was still chuckling as he left the club, a chorus of 'night' following him from Roy and Lena.

As soon as he was gone, Roy looked back to Thea and Sin, who had patiently waited while the others spoke. They looked vaguely uncomfortable, talking together until he loudly cleared his throat.

"So," he said, drawing their attention whilst simultaneously knowing that they had been listening to every word, "maybe you'd like to help me out on that one. I don't know anything about clothes shopping but you always look phenomenal, maybe you could help Lena with that instead?" At his compliment, both he and Thea flushed until she looked sharply back up and he added quickly, "not for me. For Felicity – to help her."

If he hadn't have said that, Thea would have said no. She had no remaining obligation to Roy, who had turned up on her doorstep randomly three weeks ago and tried to tell her that he still loved her; she had assumed he was drunk until she realized there was no smell of alcohol on him, meaning he was genuine. She had shouted at him, and he had tried again four times since. She had stopped shouting, but they were far from together again. Felicity, on the other hand, had really been there for her a few weeks ago, on that day in the very same club when they had collapsed on the floor together. That had been the first time in a while that Thea hadn't felt alone; a debt she owed the other woman.

So she sighed, looking over the other girl again. It was true – Lena's clothes were shabby at best and in desperate need of updating, although her face was almost pretty in its humour and earnest expression. Deciding already, and feeling bad about the 'whore' comment, especially since it was becoming clearer by the second there was absolutely nothing going on between the pair; the only looks Roy had sent his new companion so far had been angry glares, more like a brother, and besides – Thea could feel his gaze constantly on her, hot like a torch. She didn't like it; it brought back memories so sharp in their sting for him to look at her that way, so she nodded quickly.

"Fine," Thea agreed. She looked at Lena, purposefully avoiding her ex-boyfriend's gaze. "Meet me here tomorrow in the afternoon – three pm okay?"

"Absolutely," Lena said, looking slightly lost for words and taken aback. The conversation had taken a drastic turn, and now she was roped into going clothes shopping with Thea Queen – talk about crazy. It bemused her, and despite her worries she found herself almost looking forward to it. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

Thea and Sin vanished quickly, leaving them to stand in the middle of the club, both members of the team a little shocked by the conversation. Roy's insides ached the way they always did when he saw Thea, so it was with a heavy heart that he continued his tour with Lena for the rest of the night, showing her around the city. She managed to make him laugh a little after a while, and they walked around as good buddies, drinking lightly in a few bars and wandering the streets until Lena eventually went home with a clear head and a plan. For Roy, all that the conversation had done was open up a wound and leave him with one thought of resounding clarity – there was just no getting over Thea Queen.

* * *

It turned out that shopping with Thea Queen wasn't as bad as Lena had dreaded it being. It had taken Felicity almost shoving her out of the apartment and given her stern words about not pre-judging people, least of all Oliver's sister, for Lena to reluctantly get going, dragging her heels as she did. She had waited in the club only for a few minutes, inwardly having an argument with herself about why this was a bad idea, when Thea had shown up. Neither had expected the other to really show up, but after an awkward laugh to break the situation, they had decided to just go – why not, right? They were both there and had nothing else to do.

Things had started to go better when they were out. As expected, Thea was an excellent council on fashion, and knew all the best places in the city to shop; nowhere too crowded, but also nowhere too flashy, respectful of the other girl's spending limits. It was appreciated, as Lena might have taken up her sister on the offer, but she bought the simplest clothes, only the necessities – Thea helped her pick out a few new pairs of jeans and pants, plain shirts, and a cheap pair of sneakers, as her shoes were mostly falling apart at the soles – the only item even close to being especially fun or interesting they'd got for her so far was a new jacket. This one was black leather, and Lena felt about a hundred times more badass just from owning it.

"So," Thea finally asked, as they grabbed a cup of coffee as they were finishing off their day. They had got pretty much what they needed, a sort of peace being formed between them. Not knowing each other well enough yet to be friends, they queue for their drinks, as evening took over the city outside; an awkward silence falling between them until Thea spoke, "what's the deal with you and your sister? Because no offence, but I didn't have a clue that Felicity had one until yesterday."

"It's complicated."

"I get that," Thea said, then paused, looking at the other girl out of the corner of her eyes. "Were you two close once?"

For a mili-second, a flash of hurt flashed across Lena's eyes. It was masked in a moment, but Thea caught it. In a dead tone, the girl replied. "Yeah. We were."

"Been apart for a while?"

"Mhhn-hmmmn."

"Then I've been there. Except with me and Ollie it's more falling apart than coming back together – at least you and your sister are back together now," Thea said.

She offered the other girl a small smile which was returned, but they were both distracted when they got to the front of the queue and had to pause to give their coffee orders. Standing at the counter, a minute or two had passed at most, but it had given Lena time to think. Cautiously, she asked, "So why is there all the bad blood between you and Oliver? You both seem like good people; it doesn't make sense to me for there to be so much hate between you."

"How did you hear about that?"

"Felicity," Lena explained quickly, going red under the other girl's glare, which softened at the words. "She said Oliver is always talking about how much he misses you. That he worries."

"Oh. Sorry if I looked mad, I just don't like the idea of people gossiping about it behind my back," Thea explained. She felt slightly relieved that it was just Felicity and Oliver talking, as the thought that Lena had heard it just from around had caused her to panic. Thea liked her private life to stay that way. "Um, I don't really talk about it. Let's just say that I'm tired of Oliver's lies and the only way I could think of to get away from them was to get away from _him_."

Their coffee came and was quickly scooped up into cold hands, warming them instantly. The two girls turned, each in their own thoughts, walking back through the crowded coffee shop until they got to the glass front door. A bell chimed when they left, coming out onto the now dark street, shoppers leaving the once crowded mall quickly; the stores were shut, and most people were now in search of food or home.

"Come on, I know a shortcut," Thea said, leading them a different way from the rest of the crowds. She knew that if they went the same way it would be Hell to hail a cab or get picked up, but if they cut through the mall itself and out through the side door, they could cut through a few side streets to get to the QC building, which may not belong to her family anymore, but was a safe place to wait in until they could get a lift. So she turned, leading them deeper into the dark, empty arms of the mall.

"Listen," Lena said after a minute, "I'm sorry about your brother. I guess we're all having a hard time trying to learn how to be families right now, but I won't lie and tell you that he's trying – I don't know him well enough to. But I will say that if the past few weeks have taught me anything, it's that you don't give up on family."

Thea rolled her eyes, making her pace quicker in the dark. Conversations like these always made her uncomfortable, and like always, she ran away from them. "Thanks for the advice."

Lena laughed at her dryness, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna lecture you. I don't like talking about things either, it's just – I have like 4 friends here so far, one of which includes your brother – all I know so far are Felicity's friends. So I have a very limited spectrum of people I can talk to in Starling, and most of the conversations I've had in the past three weeks have been about you in one way or another: whether it's Roy or Oliver. And from what I've seen, they genuinely seem to care."

"I just wish they'd both realized that before they both lied to me," Thea said bitterly.

"People make mistakes -"

"It was more than a mistake!" Thea shouted, stopping. She turned to face the other girl, expecting to see pity – but there was none in her eyes, only understanding. "They ruined my life. In fact, worse than that – they made the life I had a lie. And I can't forgive them."

"Maybe not yet," Lena shrugged, starting to walk again. After her outburst, long overdue, Thea felt deflated, just following numbly. She looked up, defeated, as Lena spoke again with a mixture now of honesty and concern. "You might. It might not be for years, it wasn't for me, but a day will come when the pain of being apart is greater than the pain of the hurt that's come before."

"That's cute. Real spiritual there," Thea laughed dryly. "I'll try when they stop lying. And if you figure either of them out before then, let me know – because I don't know who Ollie and Roy are anymore. They've changed."

"Why me? There are others who know them better – Sara or Felicity-"

"I trust you," Thea interrupted. "I know we've just met but you're honest – it's in your eyes. Not like everyone else, they won't look at me directly anymore."

After a moment, Lena nodded. "Okay."

"And you have five friends now," The Queen added quietly, after a moment.

As Lena opened her mouth to answer to that when something ahead caught her eye. The past few weeks she had been slowly relaxing, letting down her defences from years on the job as a thief, more trusting of the places and people around her – it was times like this that she cursed the naivety of thinking that just because she was here she was safe. Although their steps had fallen into rhythm, pounding against the floor of the mall, more footsteps had joined them, unheard due to their talking. Ahead, Lena saw a shadow move. It was nothing but a shift of movement, barely visible, but she caught it, instantly more alert.

Trying to keep her face impassive, she forced a light laugh and looked over her shoulder; sure enough, she caught sight of a figure on the floor below, following them, and another just behind. Someone was out for them, she was sure.

"Thea," she hissed, not wanting to move her mouth or act like she suspected anything, speaking too quietly for anyone to hear but smiling and still walking calmly towards the exit. "Don't react, but there's someone following us."

"What?" Thea asked. She paled visibly, colour draining from her face, and tried to look behind her.

"Don't look!" Lena instructed, and the other girl obeyed, keeping forward but walking quicker, fear betrayed by her tense back. Lena knew it would only be a matter of time before someone made a move. "There's one in front, two behind," she explained, knowing there was reassurance to be found in knowing where the enemy was. "Now, if the answer is yes, I want you to nod and laugh like I said something funny: do you have emergency dialling on your phone?"

Thea laughed, tittering and slapping her on the arm like she had said something funny, her hand going to her coat pocket. They both saw a phone's lights glinting there.

"Okay, good," Lena went on in a calm whisper. "I want you to get ready to call the cops as soon as you have the chance. We're going to carry on like normal and get out of here if we can, okay? If something happens, do exactly what I say but get ready to run. Don't worry about me: just run if and when I tell you to. Don't stop for anything, until you can get to a safe, crowded place or the cops find you. You got it?"

Thea nodded, her terror clear. A tear leaked down the side of her face as her curly head bobbed, and Lena wanted to hug her desperately and make it all okay. She had never been too good at that however, but fighting so Thea stood a chance to get away? That she could do.

So when the dark-hooded figure stepped into their path, looking so much like Lena from just a few weeks ago that guilt flared up in her chest, better than anything for getting her pumped up to fight, she didn't even flinch: just stepped forward and slammed her fist into the attacker's face with everything she had left.

* * *

**A/N: **_Thanks for all your answers to the question at the end of the last chapter! It was really helpful, and most people went for the second option, so this fic will slowly expand out into the DC-verse. So, next chapter is all Oliver and Felicity, and all the missing conversations and moments from the start of this story to the 'present' day. So you might have to wait a little longer for a resolution to this cliffhanger. Please keep reviewing, it makes my day :)_


	12. She falls asleep

**A/N: **_so I made a playlist for this chapter on my tumblr, but the important song is the title one: she falls asleep by mcfly. specifically the El Paso Studio version on youtube. It was my ultimate jam for this chapter, so give it a listen while you're reading! :) This chapter is a series of conversations between Oliver and Felicity since the beginning of this fic, so it backtracks a little on the timeline._

* * *

'She falls asleep'

The first time Oliver knew it was the night when Felicity showed him her heart, and he knew there was nothing he wouldn't do to make it shine again. It was the night Lena had first met them, standing in Felicity's living room and yelling at her sister for all of the pain she felt; it had not been the look on Felicity's face as her sister felt, a tangled web of hurt, guilt and grief, but the time afterwards, when he held her steady as she told him her fears. It was that honestly, the trueness of her heart, that made him realize it so suddenly that as it hit him like a ton of bricks, and all he could think was _how could I not realize it before?_

Maybe he'd always known deep down that there was a reason he kept going back to her for answers all those years ago, when there were plenty of other people in QC he could have gone to, knowing eventually she would get suspicious, especially since his lying was atrocious. Yet he went back to her again and again until she ended up on the team. He'd never regretted that decision, not for a minute, and neither had she.

But as she told them her story, so small and shaking in front of him, some hard shard of ice in Oliver's heart had melted, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her close and hold her until the world made sense again. When she cried, he did, holding her close as she sobbed into his chest, until her tears soaked his shirt, staying all night; promising he would fix it, and she'd never have to be alone again.

Felicity was everything that was good in the world. She had hair of sunlight and stars in her eyes and peace rang out in her footsteps, sweeter than any tune and louder than any threat; she was joy, love, and honesty. She was golden to his grey, and Oliver knew she deserved better. That she of all people deserved somebody as whole and good-hearted as herself, not his scarred shell; he would adore her for his lifetime, build her a staircase to the moon and back so the rest of the world could see her like he did, as a star of the most ethereal and captivating beauty – but he could never give her all of him. Not the man he was now. He could never give her the memories of the island, years old but still like an open wound, something he would never lose. He could never give her the dark heart beating black blood through his veins and corrupt her light with it. Oliver ached to tell her, to just let it happen and damn the consequences – but in the end, he cared too much to let her get close to him, for fear that she would be burned.

But when she still looked at him like he was a hero, even after seeing glimpses of all his bad, it was hard not to feel anything.

He _thought _he was in love with her, but didn't tell her. Not yet.

* * *

"Hey," he said, seeing her sitting alone in the Foundry a few days later. It was funny how a word could say so much despite its simplicity; like a language that only they knew, to them that word usually started some conversation long overdue which breathed life into their hopeless hearts. He always said it softly, more like a prayer than a word, and she responded with the same look every time, the hint of a smile with big, sad eyes. "How are you doing today?"

"Still looking," Felicity replied tonelessly. Her gaze remained as it always did when she looked at him, but sadness brewed thoughtfully behind her green eyes, sharp as a knife. They had been looking for Lena for days; nothing had been found so far.

"We'll find her."

"Maybe."

Oliver repeated the words firmly, "we'll find her."

"Fine. We might find her, but there's no guarantee she even wants to be found. She might never want to see me again, and I wouldn't blame her."

"Felicity -" Oliver didn't have the words to follow her name. She had been sitting in her chair, but looked down at the words, one hand going to her head so she could lean on it, looking utterly defeated. After he spoke, he closed the space between them to put a hand on her shoulder. Although it sent a jolt like electricity through his veins, it seemed too inadequate a gesture compared to the sadness which weighed her body down; he finally understood all the songs about moving mountains to show someone you cared. She leaned into him all the same, almost like a reflex after all this time, and they stood that way for a little while.

"What if it's Karma?" she asked eventually, lifting her head. He moved his hand away as she swung on the chair to face him. Felicity had the honest look of not caring anymore, which made it easier for her to spill her guts like it didn't matter, and it twisted his own insides. "My dad left and I did the same. What if loosing everyone is just my bad luck? I mean, my dad didn't care enough to stay. Walter became sort of like a dad when I worked at Queen's Consolidated, but I hardly ever see him now he works for the bank. Barry got stuck by freaking lightning -"

"-You haven't lost me," Oliver said, half-smiling, "and you're never going to be alone. Not while Diggle and I are here."

"But I have lost you. Well, at least I _did_."

Looking hurt, Oliver took a step backwards but Felicity noticed his movement and spun completely around to face him, cheeks flushing as he mouth opened. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all, I'm just talking. You really should have learned to ignore me by now," Felicity gave a falsely bright laugh as she back-tracked, getting to her feet.

Her cheeks had coloured just enough for him to notice, the pink matching the shade of her lipstick, but as she passed Oliver noticed that she looked almost ill from the days of searching for her sister, pale, almost like smoke. When he reached out a hand to stop her from leaving, Oliver almost expected his touch to pass right through her, as if she were not there at all. But when his fingertips met the crook of her elbow she was solid, freezing at his touch next to him, the warmth of her body against his skin. It was too much; he let go quickly and she stayed in front of him.

"Felicity," he said firmly, meeting her gaze, which looked away in a second. When she looked back at her feet, he risked reaching out a hand to push her chin back up, guiding it to his face again. It was just a brush of skin, yet as his hand cupped her face he couldn't help but rub his thumb against her jaw line reassuringly, pleased at the small smile the gesture generated on her face. "Talk to me. Don't shut me out, please."

"It's nothing, it's just . . ." she paused, seeing the look on his face which told her that he'd find out in some way if she didn't tell him, and sighed. "You left for five months. After the Undertaking, I mean. And I know you needed some time away and you were grieving – but you also promised to come back. And you didn't, Oliver." She shook her head with the words, voice shaking as her eyes gleamed with new tears. Having to face this, Oliver felt guilt roar inside him, churning in the pit of his stomach at knowing he caused her all this worry. "I waited and waited, but you didn't come home. It was a mess and everyone was scared and I didn't know what to do. Diggle and I had to come and get you back, and when we found you . . . I didn't even know if we'd be able to bring you back. And then there's the whole Arrow business. I know I haven't said anything and believe me, I wouldn't stop for the world – but you leave me here every night while you go out to fight people. Alone."

"We need you here, you know that."

"It's not that. It's the not knowing. What if one day, you don't come back?" Felicity asked, and one of her tears fell. "I might be able to find Lena, and we might have a chance – but you're my family too, all of you. I don't know what I'd do if something happened and none of you came home: I couldn't just go back to being an IT girl. Not after this. You've changed me, and for the better, and I am grateful. But you leave me every night; I'm scared, so scared, that one day you won't come back."

Oliver couldn't even think for a moment after she finished speaking. His mouth had fallen open during her speech in shock, eyes wide, hand falling slowly from her face to his side. His ears rung and his chest burned, he realized quickly from holding his breath, which he released in a heavy exhale in the silence. It took only a moment, but words were not enough and he stepped forwards and wrapped her in a hug. It was awkward and uncomfortable, him squishing her arms to her sides and bumping her nose with his chin, but Felicity accepted it all the same. It was the first time he had been the one to initiate this kind of contact.

"I will always come back," he said slowly. The words were shaped out by his mouth, heavy on his tongue until they left; they carried weight. They were important. He stood back from the hug but kept a hand on her arm, meeting her ashen face with his own burning compassion and honesty. "I wish I could promise never to leave, but I know that's impossible with what we do. There will always be another battle. But I _can _promise that from now on I will always come back, I will. It will be more like coming home, really."

"You can't know that."

"That's true," Oliver nodded, "but I can promise to always try. For you."

She nodded, "thank you."

"I mean it - I'll be stuck like glue."

"I hope you don't mean that literally," Felicity said, almost laughing. "Because that might be awkward when one of us needs to go to the bathroom."

Oliver laughed at that, face lighting up in a grin that only she could make appear. He moved his hand from her arm to her hand, locking it there to a little murmur of surprise from her, and started to pull her towards the door. Felicity stumbled after him, hand tightening as she almost tripped.

"Oliver, what are you doing?"

"It's been too long since we really had the chance to talk. We're going for a big-belly burger."

"I can't -"

"Feli_city_!" he sang her name and she giggled, shaking her head.

"Another day, _I_ promise. But I can't just go out and have fun right now; I've got to stay here in case something comes up with Lena. I've got to find her," Felicity explained. Oliver looked disappointed for a split-second, but as soon as she mentioned her sister, realization dawned in his eyes, replacing any disappointment with understanding. Felicity sent him a smile, "rain check?"

"You can count on it," Oliver nodded. "In that case, I'll call Diggle and tell him to go and get three burgers on his way over here. He's coming in half an hour anyway and it's been way too long since just the three of us did something."

"You could always just go and get them yourself, I can monitor the computers."

"I told you I'm not going anywhere. You can't trick me into breaking a promise that easily," Oliver winked, squeezing her hand, which he kept in his own as Felicity laughed. He smiled down on her as they crossed the room, only letting go of her small hand when they got back to the computer, knowing she'd need it soon. She sat back in her chair and he perched on the edge of the desk like a little bird watching over her, until Diggle eventually turned up with the food. They sat on the floor, covered in sparring mats so not too hard to sit on, and had a small picnic of burgers, just the three of them in the empty space of the Foundry. There was nothing to fight tonight; they just had to wait until Lena came back onto the grid, and try to ignore the fact that all three were scared of losing something, most of all one another.

That day, Oliver _felt_ like he could love her, but still didn't say anything. It wasn't the right time. Not yet.

* * *

"I'm coming with you."

"No," Oliver said without a beat. Felicity was standing in front of him, chin lifted defiantly, as they got ready to go and save Lena. They knew where the gang were, they just needed to go and get her. He turned and started walking towards his bow, ready to collect it; he knew every pair of eyes in the room was on him. "No way."

"She's my sister!"

"It's too dangerous -"

"I don't care; I've got to save her."

"I do!" Oliver shouted, rounding back onto her. Felicity had followed him when he walked away, a few paces behind, so stepped back in surprise when he turned and shouted in her face. For a moment, her mouth fell open and she blinked in shock, and he felt guilty. "I can't have you hurt, okay? We'll get her – but you have to stay here."

Felicity's shock turned quickly, face growing still until her chin lifted, meeting his eyes defiantly. "I'm going. If it were your family, would you stand aside?"

Oliver knew the answer; they all did. But he still didn't want to risk her getting hurt, not for anything. "The difference is," he said, forcibly calm, "I'm trained – you're not. All that's going to happen if you go running in there is that you'll get hurt, and you'll probably get her hurt in the process."

"You hypocrite!" she shouted, throwing her arms out as she did, face leering closer to his. He felt himself froze, but Felicity seemed either unafraid or uncaring of his anger. "I've seen you run out half-dead and unprepared if your family are hurt! You can't say -"

"Felicity, think about what you're saying."

"I am." She hissed, "I can't do_ nothing_ -"

"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to trust us."

"I do, Oliver!" Felicity said in an angry whisper. Her eyes were burning, so close to his face and she looked ferocious. He had always known she was strong, braver than she thought she was, but today she was really stepping up; fighting back. Unfortunately, she just happened to be fighting back against him. "I trust you more than anyone, but this is my sister. I won't just sit here not knowing."

She caught his eye as he said that, making Oliver's resolve crumble. He remembered their conversation from the other day about leaving her behind. It was true – if it were his family out there, no way would he sit in the Foundry and let the others go out alone. It wasn't fair to expect her to do the same; a ghost of misery glinting alongside the fire in her eyes, which darted across his face, searching his face for some sign of compassion. Felicity needed him to understand. She was desperate.

"_If _you go, you stay outside in the car with Diggle."

"But -"

"That's it, that's the deal," Oliver told her sternly. His face was set, resolute, and she knew there was no point arguing. Not when the scary-vigilante voice had come out. "You come, but you stay safe. Do we have an understanding?"

"Fine," she sighed, but resentfully, shaking her head. Her breathing was heavy from the effort of arguing, chest bobbing back and forth. Although her hair was tied up in its usual high-ponytail, several strands had come loose in the afternoon, from running her fingers through it in frustration, and now clung to her forehead. She turned to walk away.

As Oliver watched her go, he wanted to call her back and apologise right away. The desperation to make her see that he just wanted, no, _needed_, to keep her safe clawed at his insides, showing on his face as she left him. But she missed that look of affection, and going into battle was not the right time to voice these feelings. It was cliché and unrealistic, so he held it back instead, watching her go.

He was no longer _afraid_ of loving her, and would happily declare that he did. But still he held back. He'd tell her one day. Just not yet.

* * *

The second time her sister left, Felicity was panicking and shouldn't be alone, and Oliver was the only one able to stay with her all night. Roy and Diggle patrolled as the Arrow to keep up the pretence that he was still on top of the game, and Sara had gone off in search of Lena. So when Felicity tried to leave quickly, alone, Oliver followed her. She didn't know what would happen next, none of them did, and he could only imagine how terrifying that must be for her, especially with her family on the line. So when she tried to cross the street to walk home he ran after her, slowing once he reached her.

"What are you doing?" Felicity asked.

"I'm coming with you."

"I'm fine. You don't have to."

"I want to," Oliver smiled. Then he took her hand like it was no big deal, and they walked to Felicity's apartment that way.

It was cold out, as usual, so the inside was a warm welcome, her apartment filled with the same orange glow it was before from the lamp. Oliver smiled. He was starting to love that light, and how it made everything in the room glow, mostly Felicity, as she appeared after taking her coat of with an awkward smile. She had been stronger this time when Lena walked away, shouting and searching, but she did not cry this time around. Her true despair showed when she clenched her jaw or blinked to stop the tears, but she held out. But she was hurting.

"How about I make us some tea?" Oliver offered.

"You can't make your own coffee at work, but you'll make me tea?" she replied, eyebrows quirking up. Even when her world was falling apart at her feet, Felicity Smoak had the uncanny ability to make Oliver Queen smile. "This really is a miracle."

Rolling his eyes, Oliver went into the kitchen to make the tea, hearing his friend sit down in the other room. The tea-making went pretty much without incident, and he was extremely pleased with himself as he walked back into the living room with the steaming mugs in his hands. He entered with a grin, expecting Felicity to look up, but she was sitting on the couch, slouched and looking at something in her hands. Putting the tea down on the small coffee table, he sat down next to her.

"What have you got there?"

"Nothing," Felicity said, tilting what looked like a piece of paper away from him as well as her whole body.

"Come on, let me see," Oliver pushed, leaning forwards to put his head on her shoulder. It landed there with a bump, and she looked down at him from the corner of her eyes. As soon as she did, he smiled sweetly, "please?"

Laughing at his face, and the way his stubble tickled when it moved against her bare skin, Felicity relented, knocking him off her shoulder but turning round again so he could see the thing in her hands. As she did, he saw the crumpled photo and his face creased in knowing sympathy. She explained, "This was taken when we were kids. I know I'm not helping anyone by dwelling on it, but I've always had it tucked behind my work I.D and I couldn't help myself."

"Aw," Oliver said, his smile more genuine as she passed him the picture. He could tell Felicity right away, the taller of the two girls in the frame; although her hair was raven black back then, her smile was still the same bright one he day daily, and her eyes shone with the innocence of youth. The two girls were standing in a sunny garden underneath a tree of insurmountable size, and he could imagine them trying to climb it in their childhood many times. The corners of his mouth quirked up in amusement "Look how cute you were." At the 'were', Felicity made a face and pouted at him until he laughed, holding up his hands in defeat. "Okay, okay – you're still cute. Is that Lena?"

Felicity nodded; her smile faded a little, but in a more nostalgic way than sad. "She was about . . . six, I think, when that was taken. That tree was at my grandmother's house."

"And your final secret is revealed," Oliver joked mysteriously, "nice natural colour."

"Told you it was dyed," Felicity replied, reaching to touch her hair as she did. "Lena's is natural, though. I've never thought about it, but maybe that's why I dyed mine the same colour."

"You missed her."

"Every day."

"It's going to be alright, you know," he said gently, giving her the photograph back and looking her dead in the eyes, aware of how close they were sitting. "She's a better person than she pretends to be, I think, so she'll come back. If you were as close as you looked in that picture, bonds like that can't be broken. Not by anything."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I'm the Arrow," Oliver grinned, "If I can't save her and help my team then what's the point? We'll save her from what she's been trained to be because that's what _we_ do. You'll make her family again and show her there's a better way because that's what _you_ do. You make people better when they have no hope."

When he looked at her like that, with as much faith in her as she had in him, her heart ached with feelings she knew he would never return, not in the same way, and her mouth fell open in shock. After a beat her shock turned into a smile of gratitude which Oliver mistook for sadness.

"Felicity," he said softly, leaning closer for a moment before putting his arm around her shoulders and tucking him into him, Felicity's legs automatically snapping upwards so they ended up with her head on his chest, just above his collarbone, and him having his arms gently around her, holding her steady. They were there, and safe, as she half-lay down and felt a breath leave her. Felicity was tired: of not knowing, of being afraid, of losing her sister over and over, and that exhaustion took everything out of her. The only thing that seemed to make sense was Oliver's voice. "I've got you, it's alright. We're going to fix all of this, and you'll have a bigger family than you already did with us and I'll even teach Lena to shoot an arrow. We can all have movie nights and go for big-belly burgers and tease Digg before his date-nights with Layla. It will be great. I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm going to stay with you, as long as you need me and then half an hour more, until you're pissed off and just want to me to leave already. Then when I do go, you're going to think '_thank God he's gone, can't he tell he outstayed his welcome? I can't wait to tell the others that Oliver Queen's really a clingy, annoying cuddler'_. And I'll fool you into thinking I'm gone, so just when you start to miss me, I'll come right back."

"Oliver?" Felicity said quietly from under his arms, and he looked down in time to see her glancing up. Her face was tear streaked, and he realized that he had just been saying whatever crap came into his head for quite a while, holding her tighter when the sobs shook her body without even having to think about it, not stopping talking for the entire time. But as she looked up, she gave him a watery smile. "You're rambling."

That really made him laugh, her head shaking as his stomach bobbed against it as he threw his own head back in a laugh. The Queen of rambling was telling him off for just that, and all he did in reply was hug her closer, seeing her roll her eyes before she snuggled into him. After a while, he turned on the television, and they watched whatever crappy late-night movie was on and _friends_ re-runs ten years out of date for most of the night, both of them eventually shifting so that they lay on the sofa, his arm still around her.

When Sara called, he went to the kitchen to answer her in hushed tones. At the news that Lena was found, safe, and maybe able to stay, he felt an immense surge of relief. He could barely remember how the conversation ended, only staggering back in feeling like the world was right.

"Was that Sara? Is there any news?" Felicity asked as soon as he returned, face eager and vulnerable. He sighed as he sat back next to her, wanting to be honest. In the end that desire won out – he wanted to be truthful and whole-heartedly himself right then.

"Yeah, it was. There's a chance, just a small one, that things might get fixed tomorrow. Sara somehow managed to get through to your sister, and they're going to try."

"I want to go and see them."

"There's nothing you can do, not right now. It's late and they're both sleeping anyway." Oliver told her, putting a hand on her shoulder and moving his fingers reassuringly, helping to relax her. "You don't have to worry, Sara will help her."

"So I just stay here?"

"I'll stay with you," Oliver promised, taking her hand again. "Let our friends do the rest. She might need their help – but you need someone too. And some sleep."

It took some convincing, but Felicity and Oliver ended up in the same position as before, lying together on the sofa as the television hummed on until they both drifted off into sleep. Sometime in the night they must have shifted, as when Oliver woke he was still holding Felicity, but she had rolled over so they faced one another. His arms were around her and her head lay in the nape of his neck, one of her legs between his. The first to wake, he had a precious few moments to look down at her peacefully sleeping form and appreciate her morning beauty in the first light of the sun. The stress left her face when she was sleeping, and just after she had fallen asleep he had taken off her glasses and placed them safely on the table, so when she sleepily blinked awake, he had an unrestricted view of her green eyes.

Seeing how they had woken up, Felicity embarrassedly jumped up and blushed, spluttering about making coffee before dashing towards the kitchen, her day-old shirt and leggings clinging to her. Again, he watched her go.

Once, he had told her that he couldn't be with somebody he really cared about; it was true at the time. But times, and perspectives, are constantly changing – he couldn't afford to _not_ act on his feelings. Slade could kill them any day, and there was nobody he'd rather spend that time with.

Oliver _knew_ he loved her. He knew it, and probably so did most of the others, all except her. He could tell her, he wanted to tell her – but time was not on his side. Felicity already had a lot to deal with, between the war with Slade and her sister's sudden reappearance into her life; Oliver didn't want to add to that. One day, he would show her how he felt, when things were better and they were safe. But until then, he'd be there for her in any way he could, waiting patiently for that day.

And boy, had she been worth waiting for. It had surprised him, realizing how he felt over those few days, but when she slotted perfectly between him like their bodies were made to fit together, and she was the only one who could really make him laugh and feel alive again, it was simple. It was fate, if he believed in it. One day, they would be together, and it would be a 'happily ever after' moment, but he must wait for this moment to present itself and be perfect, which it had not done. Not yet.

* * *

**A/N: **_so I hope the sort-of flashbacks weren't too confusing, and that you liked this chapter! In terms of views this is officially my most-read fic ever, which is phenomenal - thank you all so much! please keep reviewing/following._


	13. Prize Fighter

'Prize fighter'

"Run!" Lena barked at Thea, after she had punched their first attacker square in the face, grabbing the attacker next by the back of their hood and shoving their face down – just as her knee came up to meet it. She felt teeth on her knee and a heard crack of them breaking, followed by a scream of pain and the warmth of blood on her leg, as she threw the figure to the floor and turned to search for the other two. She was aware of Thea's footsteps pounding away and growing fainter, but the blood rushing through her veins blocked her ears, taking away everything but herself, her shallow breathing, and the situation.

There were two of them, most likely men from their height and stature, now running right at her. One was slightly in front of the other, and the man she had just hit was slowly getting to his feet behind her. Three against one. She grinned in anticipation of it; as the man got to her, she ran forwards and swung out an arm, connecting with his gut with a sweeping underarm motion, making the man fall over, head over heels to the floor. As he landed, the second man got to her. He tried to throw a punch but she ducked, kicking out with her left leg as she did; he dropped to one knee from the impact.

"Thanks," she said, looking down at him. The man's face had been exposed, hood falling down. He was young, maybe in his mid-twenties, grisly and scarred.

The thug blinked, "For what?"

"The leg up."

The man only had a moment to look confused before she jumped, putting one foot on his shoulder for extra height before pushing back and flipping. Just as she had expected, the first man she had knocked down had been advancing on her from behind, so as she jumped backwards her legs locked around his neck and she used to momentum to twist him off his feet. She turned her body until the man was on the floor before she jumped back to her feet. But she was a fraction of a second too slow pulling off the move, and the two other men had recovered in the time, one grabbing her from behind immediately and locking her arms behind her, useless, while the other began to hit her wherever was exposed: he face, her stomach, her throat.

For a moment, she felt her body quake and convulse under the blows, unformed bruises marked invisibly with each one, choking out a shaking breath as she closed her eyes. That was all it took for her to get mad.

"Keep going!" Lena screamed, upon looking up as they started throwing punches and seeing Thea standing in the door of the shopping centre. The other girl had stared back in terror upon seeing her friend about to be beaten, but seemed to wake up at the scream; Thea Queen took a few steps forward with the intention of helping. She was scared as hell, but she couldn't just run away and let Lena get hurt. But Lena looked back desperately, kicking out at the nearest man to show she was fighting back, and begged her to leave, "please, get help! Get out, run now. Run, Thea!"

With a hard exhale and shaking steps, Thea ran out the door and into the city, leaving her new friend behind and pulling out her phone to call the police as she ran.

As soon as the other girl was gone, completely vanished from sight, Lena went still, stopping struggling against the man. She didn't have to hide how well she could fight anymore. With a scream of rage she kicked out, foot jamming into the crotch of man directly in front of her, and when he doubled over she kicked him again in the face, hard, and he fell to the floor. Then she dealt swiftly with the man behind, stomping once of his foot to startle him into loosening his grip, sweeping her left arm free before he could re-tighten it and lifting up her elbow, bringing it once, twice, three times into his face. He stumbled back, freeing her, but she turned and instantly began to pummel him back.

That was until the other two men got back to her feet, and she left the man at her hands sink to the floor, bloodied and unconscious, to face them. For a few minutes they all circled one another, calculating and prowling like predators – but who was the prey? The men believed it to be Lena; she knew they had no idea just how easy this fight was for her.

One of the men, in quick Russian, told her in a gruff tone to 'stand down before they had to hurt her'.

"Hurt me?" she replied, stopping pacing immediately and almost laughing, "I think that's going to be the other way around, мудак."

The man who had spoken curled his lip upwards in a snarl and the two men attacked simultaneously.

* * *

Thea was sobbing down the phone, still running, but her steps were sagged with fear and she had slowed considerably a few streets away, stumbling onwards. The phone was ringing as she pushed into an empty street. It clicked suddenly.

"Starling city police department, what is your emergency?"

"My friend," Thea practically shouted upon hearing the voice, but her words came out choked and thick with emotion. "We were attacked by some guys and she told me to run, she needs help, please. I left her and she said she'd hold them off but there were three of them, she can't fight them all."

"Miss, what is your location?"

"S-she's at the mall – the one on the edge of the glades."

"And you?"

"I'm a few streets away, she told me to not stop running."

"She was right," the voice on the other end of the phone took a hard tone, the fake accent replaced by an unmistakable one which had haunted her dreams for weeks. It was enough to increase the shaking of her legs, and terrify her out of her tears. Slade Wilson. "So, do what she says and run. Can't you hear me? I said, RUN!"

Slade's voice taunted her into action; Thea squeaked and dropped her phone and started to run with renewed motivation. But this time she was scared, looking over her shoulder with every few paces, not able to work past the feat that he was now after her. She ran, hard as she could, but only got to the end of the street before a laugh rung out, and Slade stepped into her path. He wore dark body armour, but left his face unmasked, grinning at her fear.

"I'm sorry – that game lost its fun quicker than I expected," he said, sneering at her as he took a few steps towards her, and she instinctively stumbled backwards. "Look at you: pathetic. It's hard to believe . . ."

"What? It's hard to believe what?" Thea asked loudly, trying not to look afraid.

Slade turned to her coldly, "whose blood you share."

"I am not like Malcolm Merlyn! I never did anything to you!"

"Oh, sweet Thea, still so unaware. I'm very sorry for this," Slade started to walk towards her vindictively; although she turned and ran, he caught up to her with ease. He grabbed her like she was a ragdoll and threw her to the floor. Thea hit her head hard against the concrete and the world started to spin, as she sat up she touched her fingertips to her forehead and they came back bloody. And Slade was advancing again. "There's no one coming, Thea. My men are taking care of your little friend as we speak."

"No -"

He hit her maybe twice before it was too much, and Thea closed her eyes and whimpered. But then he let out a shout of surprise, and the girl at his feet opened her eyes just in time to see Slade knocked flying by a blur. Thea scampered back until the wall was behind her; she could feel the heat of the blood on her face but could only focus on what was happening in front of her. Even that was drifting in and out of focus, and the pain in her head was extreme; Thea closed her eyes against the wall as she winced in pain.

Lena had appeared from nowhere and had tackled Slade, knocking him off balance enough to sweep his legs from under him. Now she was sat on his chest, looking tiny in comparison to his bulky armour, and was punching Slade aggressively in the face, screaming with each blow. After a round of punches, he simply put up his hands and shoved, and the other girl was sent flying across the side-road they were standing in, banging against a dumpster before crumpling to the wet floor. Lena coughed once in pain, but was on her feet again, holding her side with a grimace and determined that he would not hurt her friend.

"Brave one, are you?" Slade leered. He stood with his arms open, looking relaxed as he faced her, as she was slowly circling back towards him. He did not reach for any of his weapons, and she did her best to look weak and pathetic, at least until she got close enough to act. Thea woke up, drifting briefly back into consciousness just as Lena got within arm's reach. In a second it was like she energised completely, throwing a punch at Slade. But although she tried to fight, Slade deflected each of Lena's hits, eventually grabbing her by the throat and lifting her into the air. Hand tight around her throat, Lena began to choke and cough, fighting back against his grip but almost defenceless, before Slade lowered his arm until she was close enough for him to whisper in her ear.

"Give the Arrow my regards," Slade hissed, only loud enough for her to hear. He was close enough for her to smell the bitterness and sweat radiating off of him, and her eyes bulged out at the words. "Tell Oliver that I could kill his family in a heartbeat."

"Why?" Lena managed to choke out, although the world was starting to spin and she could barely breathe.

Slade only laughed, "Because I can. Because he doesn't deserve to have a family and be safe. Tell him."

With that, he threw her again, this time into the wall across the street. Lena hit it hard and went down, choking on the ground, the air filling her lungs precious and dizzying after being starved of it. She was hacking and coughing, hand on her throat, as he turned and very calmly walked away. Once Slade was gone she recovered, scurrying over to Thea, who was likewise getting to her feet in concern.

"Are you okay?" Thea asked as the other girl approached, walking awkwardly like she could barely move her side.

"I'm fine, are you? You're bleeding," Lena grimaced out. She crossed the space and took a look at Thea's head, on which her hair was thick with blood, lank and dark and still spreading. She had hit her head, and hard by the look of it, there was a gash pouring blood down the left side of her face. Thea didn't look to good, and she supposed she looked no picnic herself.

"My head feels . . . fuzzy," Thea admitted.

"What happened?"

"I tried to call the police but _he_ must have intercepted the call or something. The I was running and he was there and-"

"Okay. Thea, breathe," Lena ordered as the other girl started to panic and hyperventilate, putting one had on her shaking arm and squeezing it comfortably. She wanted to help but didn't really know how to, all she knew was that they needed to call the police, or Oliver, and that she had to get Thea to a hospital. "We've still got to get out of here."

"But if he's intercepted all calls to the cops . . ."

"I'll call Laurel. She can call her dad," Lena said, ushering the other girl in the opposite direction Slade had walked, staying close and alert. "Come on, can you keep walking?"

"Yeah, I can. Thank you," Thea added quietly.

"Don't mention it," Lena commented dryly, as they both staggered, covered in blood, towards the nearest place to safely stay. They found an empty park bench and Lena made Thea sit down, concerned about the loss of blood the other girl seemed to be suffering from, and called Laurel. The call was quick and worried, and within seven minutes detective Lance was there with paramedics and a squad car.

* * *

The rest of their 'team' were in the Foundry: Felicity worked diligently on her computers, settling back into their routine of fighting crime, Roy was having another archery lesson with Oliver, and this time Sara was with them, a second tutor, as Diggle wandered between the two groups looking bored.

"Hey Felicity," Diggle said, sitting on her desk to face her, "have you heard from your sister yet?"

"No, actually," Felicity remarked, checking her phone. There were no calls or messages, so she quirked her lips down for a moment before making herself relax. She had to let her sister have a life. "I'm sure her and Thea ended up going to some bar. Illegally, I might add. But I'm sure they're just having fun."

"How's it been going with her? Has she found a place to stay yet?"

"Not yet. She's looking, but I'm not pressuring her. I quite like having someone else around the apartment."

Diggle smiled, "I'm glad it's going well for you two."

Felicity made a face, "It's not perfect, I'll admit. Don't get me wrong, I love my sister and I'm glad she's back but uh, sometimes it's like we have nothing in common anymore. I'm . . . me with my computers you guys and she's – well, I don't really know anymore."

"Have you tried talking to her about it?"

"Of course! I mean, we talk, but it's not like it used to be. When we were kids it was like I could read her mind, I knew exactly what she was thinking . . ." Felicity trailed off, looking sad for just a moment. "I don't anymore."

"People change, it happens," Diggle said comfortingly, patting her shoulder. "You're both unique people. Not many have had the experiences you both had though; it'll work itself out once you've spent some more time together."

"I know," Felicity smiled happily, swinging on her chair. "It has to, we're sisters. Although you're right about one thing – I haven't heard from her in hours. I'd better call her." Smiling, she twisted and lifted her phone to her ear, waiting for the call to go through. The Foundry was amazing in so many ways as a base and training facility – but it did however have seriously sucky connection. Felicity wasn't surprised when the call failed, turning in her chair to Oliver instead. He wore a tight-fitting grey shirt she averted her eyes from, and was currently trying to lead by example and show Roy how to properly hold a bow. She called over to him, "Oliver, have you heard from Thea recently? They should be back by now and I don't want them to run into any trouble with traffic."

"Thea and I haven't exactly been on the best of terms recently," Oliver said, his voice slightly tight. He crossed the room, calling a 'break', and stood by her. "I can try calling her, she might not answer."

"Thanks."

"No problem," he answered. Oliver pulled out his cell, which was probably more advanced than hers anyway, and found his sisters name on his contacts. Dialling, he put the phone to his ear and waited – then his face turned sour. A series of beeps met his ears, high-pitched and telling him that the phone couldn't even make the call – Thea's was disconnected. He frowned, knowing that was unlikely to happen normally. "Something's wrong."

Just as he was about to talk again, the phone in his hand buzzed. All of the team had gathered around when they heard the exchange, and jumped back in synch at the unexpected noise. Oliver answered it in a moment, registering the caller I.D in a moment. "Detective Lance?"

Over the course of the short call, his face went through a range of expressions, from shock to fear to anger. At the end, his jaw clenched as he hung up, but Felicity recognised the panic in his eyes instantly.

"What's wrong?" she demanded.

"We have to get to the hospital. Now." Oliver spoke the words tensely, but when they all got to their feet to rush off he took her hand with the gentlest of touches, pulling her alongside him as they ran towards the exit and cars, his guts twisting up with worry.

* * *

When they got to the hospital, Oliver led the charge to Thea's room, bursting in to see a few doctor's buzzing around his sister. She was sitting on a hospital bed, legs hanging over the edge, as two doctors tried to clean up a large cut on her head. Lena stood next to her, holding her hand tightly as the doctor's worked and speaking softly to the other girl; Thea was wincing every time the doctors touched her head, eyes shutting and leaking tears whilst her hand gripped back until her knuckles turned white. She was in pain. Both girls were covered in blood.

"What's going on?" he demanded, as detective Lance turned from his position at the door and saw them.

"Oliver," Quentin Lance held his hands out, "I know it looks bad, but the doctor's say she's gonna be fine. They were attacked on their way home by some thugs sent by Slade Wilson."

"Slade?" Oliver burst out, looking livid. "Are you sure?"

"That's what the girl's said. He attacked Thea and set a bunch of lowlifes on Lena, but she managed to fight them off and they got away."

"Lena saved her?" Felicity asked, stepping forward. Her eyes were wide with worry, darting between the detective and the two girls quickly. "Is she okay?"

"Oh, she's cut up just as bad but she's refusing to leave Thea alone, you might want to talk to her about that. She needs to have some of those cuts looked at."

"Thank you," Felicity said, and breezed away in a moment, brushing past him. Mr. Lance looked like he wanted to call her back but stopped himself, looking at the others. He glanced down at the other cops down the hallway, but then nodded quickly to Oliver, letting him through quickly. Technically they'd been told that the girls weren't allowed any visitors until they'd given statements to the police, but he made an exception. Roy felt a hand on his shoulder, and knew it was Diggle's as the other three waited outside, having to look in and wait for news.

Inside the room, Felicity and Oliver ran up to where the doctors were just finishing up on Thea.

"Speedy," Oliver said affectionately, coming to a stop in front of her, "are you alright? What happened?"

"Ollie, Slade was there," Thea choked out. She looked up at him, her make-up smudged and blood on her face. "He came after me again."

"Shhh, it's okay, he can't get you here." Oliver soothed, taking the hand Lena had dropped in both of his own. When she didn't protest, he pulled her into a half-hug, respectful of her head. He noticed Felicity was holding her own sister's hands, but only because they were battered and bleeding from fighting, and they seemed to be having a quiet talk among themselves. He turned back to his own sister, "How are you hurt? What did the doctor's say?"

"They want to take me for a scan in a minute. Um, when Slade threw me I hit my head against the floor, and it'll probably need stitches. Guess I'll be rocking the half-bald look for a while," Thea laughed bitterly, and he tried his best to smile back at her. Then her smile wavered, and she looked back up terrified, "what does he want from me, Ollie?"

"He won't hurt you again, I promise," Oliver vowed, pulling her back into his side. After maybe ten minutes, the doctors came back to take her away for a head-scan with a wheelchair, which Thea scowled at.

"I can walk," she snapped.

"It's just procedure, sorry," a good-natured doctor apologised, as Oliver helped her into the chair. The truth was she was still feeling light-headed. As they were about to wheel them away, Lena moved to follow, and the same doctor looked at her sternly. "You need to be checked out too – you look like you went ten rounds with a grizzly bear."

"I said I'd stay, and I'll stay," Lena shrugged like it was nothing.

"It's okay," Thea interrupted, looking at the other girl gratefully. "Thank you for staying with me so far – but my brother's here now. And you need a doctor too. Please, go get sorted."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Thea nodded, "And thank you. You saved me."

Lena grinned, "that's what friends are for, right? But can I have a word with your brother? He'll catch you right up."

"Sure," Thea frowned, looking confused as she was wheeled away. With a nod at Oliver, Roy rushed right after her so she was never alone. Once all the doctors were gone and the room was empty, both turning to Lena with expressions of worry.

"Slade, he told me to give you a message," Lena said, sounding guilty. She didn't want to have to say it, but knew something bad might come if she didn't. "He said he could kill your family in a heartbeat, because he can, and y-you don't deserve them." She spat the words out, her voice shaking as she added, "Oliver, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? You just saved my sister," Oliver said, putting a hand to the side of her face before letting it fall to her shoulder. It was a gesture he had done many times to her sister, but with Lena it was more of a gesture of gratitude. She did look like hell, though, covered in blood, especially her hands. Her lip kept shaking. Oliver wanted to make Slade pay now, his anger rising every moment of seeing the battered girls. "You did great - more than great. Now you go and get yourself checked, okay?"

Lena nodded, and Oliver left, going after his sister. Felicity was left standing with her sibling in an empty hospital room, and could already see detective Lance calling a doctor over. So Felicity took the opportunity to pull her sister in to a hug, not caring about getting blood on her dress, and whispered to Lena. "Don't you ever scare me like that again. How are you really feeling?"

"It hurts, Fee," Lena answered honestly as her sister stepped back. But she smiled, a look more like a grimace in her state, as she spoke, "but someone had to do the right thing. It's about time, but it was my turn."

Felicity sighed, looking at her sister like she was a hero, blood-stained and broken as she was. Then the doctors swooped into the room, cleaning and taping up Lena's hands, her ribs, every scratch and bruise on her body. And Felicity stayed by her side this time, there to hold a hand.

* * *

In the hospital corridor, Sara and Diggle overheard an odd conversation. Two suited detectives approached the now-officer Lance, who held up his hands to hold them back and seemed to be arguing with them. Sidling over, the pair listened in.

"We need to talk to that girl," one of the detectives said sternly, trying to push past Lance, who physically moved himself to block their way. "We have a man in intensive care with half of a plastic knife cutting up his stomach from the inside, another severely beaten, and a third man in the morgue – this girls got some explaining to do."

"She's getting medical attention before you poke your noses in," Officer Lance said adamantly, crossing his arms.

"Lance, the man was found thrown over a balcony-"

"So what? The scum attacked two kids and they panicked! Of course they fought back!"

"We had someone take a look at the body and that man died before he was pushed over the balcony," one of the detectives told him in a gruff tone. "His neck was snapped, almost perfectly. Ms. Queen's friend has got some explaining to do."

Quentin Lance looked conflicted for a moment, glancing back to the door of Lena's room. He knew Felicity Smoak worked with the Arrow, so if that really was her sister, then maybe the vigilante had something to do with all of it, which could cause problems for everyone. But then he thought of all the times the Hood had saved him and his family, and was more determined than ever to protect Lena Smoak from any questions. He set his jaw firmly and turned back to his colleagues. "I'm sorry, fellas, you're going to have to wait until she's cleared by the doctors. No arguments – go."

As the detectives walked away angrily, Diggle and Sara escaped around a corner to talk. The hospital was busy, and they pointedly kept Lena's room in their sight. Oliver had told them to look after the two sisters inside; he looked worried that Slade had made such a bold move. They all were shocked by the attack.

"Should we be proud or worried?" Diggle asked.

"I don't know yet," Sara replied, casting an ominous look back at the door. She wanted to go in there right now to ask what had happened, but held herself back. They had to trust Lena. But to have put so many guys in hospital in an unfair fight, she must have fighting skills they had not seen yet, and the fact she had neglected to mention them was very worrying indeed. "Those guys were right about one thing – we need answers. But not tonight. Come on, let's go get Felicity and Lena some coffee from the hospital cafeteria, I have a feeling it's going to be a long night."

* * *

**A/N: **_I go back to college tomorrow *loud sigh* so we'll just have to see how much writing time I have over the next few weeks. But fortunately, my exams are only on the 16-19th, and after that I only have a tiny bit to do and I'll have lots and lots of free time to update! Until then, please keep reviewing, as always. - meg._**  
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	14. Change tack

'Change Tack'

Oliver stayed by Thea's bed side for two days straight. The wound to her head wasn't pretty, and she had to have it stitched up and drained of blood before the doctors would even consider releasing her. He stayed with her the entire time and to his surprise – she let him. Occasionally she'd make a sly comment or remark but she never entirely shut him out, which he counted as a positive sign. It was only after those two days that she kicked him out of the hospital, claiming that he needed a shower and sleep, and she needed a few hours peace. Oliver had lost that argument and left, although he saw Roy in the waiting room outside. The kid hadn't left either.

On his way out, Oliver sent him a small smile and nod saying 'go ahead', and Roy had just gone into Thea's room as he left. His motorcycle was exactly where he left it, but instead of going for food or sleep, he headed straight for Verdant. He knew he probably looked and smelt like a garbage can, but he had to check on his team.

When he got to the club it was naturally closed and therefore empty, but a small assembly was formed around the bar: Sara, Felicity, Lena and Diggle. They all had small drinks and were lounging either on the bar stools or in Sara's case, standing behind the bar, but where casually laughing and seemed to be teasing Lena for the spectacular shiner on her right eye.

"Ouch," he said as he joined them, the laughter falling silent at his comment. He looked at the younger girl sympathetically, "what's your damage?"

"A coupla cuts and bruises, busted up my ribs again, nothing permanent," she shrugged, shaking her head. He almost smiled at her modesty, before he noticed the purple bruises on her pale neck. They wrapped around it like a tattoo, so dark and ugly looking he flinched at the sight, reaching out a hand to touch it. Naturally, Lena slapped his hand away the instant it touched her swollen neck, "hey! What's wrong with you? You see an injury and instantly go to poke it? Christ, I feel sorry for Thea if you've been doing the same to her!"

"Sorry," Oliver laughed, holding his hands up. "Didn't think – I apologise."

"How is she anyway?"

"Good. She's not happy that the doctor's had to shave her head to put the stitches in, but she's calling it an 'undercut' now and claiming it'll be a new trend," he explained, and Lena laughed.

Felicity, on the other hand, was looking at him in a concerned manner, small frown creasing her lips. "And you look like you should be passed out somewhere. No offence."

"That was my second stop," Oliver smiled at her, "I just wanted to check in here first, make sure you were all alright."

"We're fine," Diggle reassured him, handing Oliver a glass of whatever Sara had poured for them, "we're celebrating everyone being okay. But we were just about to head downstairs and start a tech-sweep of the city. The two men who attacked Thea and Lena are in police custody, but we thought Slade might not be so comfortable having people who would possibly talk alive and with the cops."

Oliver nodded, "makes sense. Do you think he'll make a move to break them out?"

"That or kill them."

"Let me know if you find anything."

"We always do, come on," Diggle said to the rest of them, heading for the steps leading to their base. While Oliver had been preoccupied with his family, which none of them blamed him for in the slightest, he had sort of assumed the position of leader. They had all accepted it without question, although Diggle received considerable more lip and cheek than Oliver ever did. He was smiling as he clapped the man he had come to see as a brother on the back, "You should get some sleep. I can't see Slade acting again so quickly, so we'll hold down the fort for as long as you need us to – be with Thea."

"And tell her to get well soon from all of us," Sara added, as she and Felicity left together. He watched Felicity go with a look of longing, but caught her sister by the arm. Lena turned to him in surprise, stopping.

"I just wanted to say thank you," Oliver said once they were alone. "You saved my sister's life, and she's one of the most important things in the world to me. I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to Thea . . ."

Lena bit her lip and shook her head. "Don't thank me. I should have done better – I'm sorry she got hurt at all. That head injury didn't look fun."

"Slade would have killed her if you hadn't stopped him," Oliver told her firmly. "He would have. You fought him, and that was brave! He was much bigger than you, but you still tried to save my sister, so please accept my gratitude. Hey," he added when she shook her head, catching her by the arm a second time. Oliver smiled, "I'm glad you take after your sister in that way. That's the sort of bravery I need for my team."

Her face brightened instantly, smile lighting up her face as she turned back to him. "You mean it?"

"After that, and with a bit of training, there's a place for you if you want it."

"Thanks, Oliver," Lena grinned. It had been an odd sort of revelation, finding out the Arrow was Oliver Queen. Then, thinking about it, it all made sense. He had the money to get what he needed, the star fame to avoid too serious suspicions against him, and a five year gap to learn anything he needed to be a vigilante. She'd had a good laugh about that one, the day she'd worked it out. Then she turned to him with a suspicious grin, "Do I get a costume? And a name?"

He laughed, "Maybe one day."

Then Oliver did something very unlike himself, and impulsively embraced her, wrapping his arms around her in a very one-sided hug. Lena's arms were crushed to her side, but she patted him on the back awkwardly, knowing what the hug was for. She had saved his sister, and that held weight. So she allowed herself a small smile of pride. It was a small thing, but it was a start. Maybe she could give the whole 'hero' business a try after all. She was happy until she heard a snigger behind her, the two breaking apart to see a detective with a shit-eating grin watching them, the same man who'd been interrogating her for three hours the day before.

"Isn't she a little young, even for you, Mr. Queen?" He sneered, as Lena and Oliver turned to face him.

Oliver started, "Who-"

"Detective Harris," Lena supplied with a sigh before turning back to the detective, "really now, is there no end to your unprofessionalism?"

"I don't like watching insolent, lying teenagers walk," Detective Harris said, storming towards them. Oliver even moved to stand in front of Lena, the detective walked with such intent. As it was, the man stopped a few feet in front of them, jaw set in rage, "I know you killed that man! And it's lucky for you that the Lance family seems to have made you a priority of theirs; otherwise you'd be behind bars by now."

"The Lance family?" Oliver asked, confused as he stared between the two. He hadn't been filled in on the detectives relentless accusations towards Lena yet.

"Officer Lance slowed down the police investigation and Laurel threatened to defend this girl should charges be brought against her," the detective explained with a sigh, and Oliver felt a rush of gratitude towards his allies, as did Lena. "So the D.A dropped all charges. Congratulations, miss Smoak, you just got away with murder."

"It was self-defence!" Oliver shouted, voice turning cold, "You know that. Two kids get attacked by a group of dangerous men – and you want_ them_ arrested? I think you need to re-assess your priorities, detective. Last time I checked, the police were supposed to catch criminals, not innocent kids. Although they haven't been doing much of anything recently."

"How dare you . . ." the detective spat loudly, before looking directly at Lena. Her chin jutted upwards defiantly under his glare, and Oliver was proud. "You better watch out, kid. We know Lance has a soft spot for the Arrow, just like Wilson seems to have a thing against him, which adds up to a lot of suspicion around your actions. I'll be keeping an eye on you, girlie. And if you're working with the Arrow – I'd tell you to spend more time with lazy billionaires," Harris said, with a look at Oliver, "Just be careful about the company you keep."

"I'm very careful about the company I keep," Lena replied coldly, "which is why I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"You don't own the place."

"You're right," Oliver cut in, replacing his frown with a smile, "but _my_ family does. You heard her, get out."

The detective, with a last cruel look at Lena and Oliver, who gave him a double death-glare side by side at the bar, stalked out of the club. He walked a few streets before a black car pulled up next to him. Detective Harris got in without a word, very aware of the man sitting the opposite side of the car, and gulped audibly before he spoke; he knew he had failed in the task set to him.

"I couldn't arrest the girl. The Lance family kicked up a fuss, so the D.A dropped charges – there was nothing I could do. I'm very sorry, Mr. Wilson," he explained hurriedly.

Slade Wilson only held up a finger. "Don't worry, detective, you still have use to me. Your failure will be forgiven for now. I had hoped to get the Smoak girl out of the way until the right moment, but apparently it will be a harder job than I anticipated thanks to your inadequacy. Keep them busy, if you think you can manage that."

"Of course, Mr. Wilson. I won't let you down again."

"I hope not," Slade replied coolly, "I don't give third chances."

The car pulled up, and detective Harris jumped out as fast as he could. He couldn't believe he was still alive. Lena Smoak was the cause of all of this; she should be in prison like Mr. Wilson wanted right now, but she was walking around that club like she owned the joint – blood boiling, the young detective stormed off into the night. He would not fail a second time. Determined to wreak havoc on whatever elements of the girl's life he could get to, he vanished to find some answers.

* * *

Thea stayed in hospital a further four days, of which Oliver spent ninety percent of his time at her side. It was sweet, and thawed her frostiness towards him, but to say she was relieved when she was discharged was an understatement. She couldn't wait to have a bath and catch up on some crap tv. Alone. Which she promptly told her brother as they entered the Queen's mansion.

"Okay, I get it," Oliver laughed, "you want some alone time. Fine, I'll be out for a few hours. Try not to get into any more trouble between now and the time I get back."

He'd left then, confident she was safe at home. In their absence, Felicity had 'improved' their home security system, and he had hired a bunch of guys Diggle recommended to guard their house at all times. The only place safer than the Queen mansion right then was the Foundry.

"Have you found anything on Slade?" he asked as he walked in to that very place. Roy, Diggle and Sara, who were sparring, stopped at his entrance, and both of the Smoak girls looked up from computer screens. Felicity was working off their mainframe, the large computer they all now considered to be hers, but Lena seemed to be working off a private laptop. It was old and bashed up, but the lines of code and infra-red maps of the city she had up seemed to be working just fine.

"No, he just vanished," Felicity answered.

"I got nothing," Lena confirmed with a groan, "how can he just disappear? He's human. Nobody can go completely off grid, not without experience."

"Trust me, Slade's got plenty of experience doing that," Oliver told her, looking at her screen, "How are you doing that?"

"What?" Lena said incredulously, "a dropout I may be, but I also grew up with Felicity as a sister. I know how to work computers – not nearly half as well, of course, but I'm not stupid. But I've still got jack squat."

"I'm sorry we couldn't find anything," Felicity said to him, swinging around in her chair to face him. She looked tired; they all did.

Oliver sighed, "It's not your fault. When I find _him_, however, I won't be quite so forgiving."

"Now _that_ I had an idea on," Lena said, looking at them all. Her bruises had faded slightly, to a dull brown, but her hands were still bandaged like a fighter's. "I met Slade, when I was working with that gang on the docks. Just once, mind, but you can get an idea of a person from just one meeting."

"Why did he want to see you?" Sara asked.

"I was the only person working for him who he hadn't met. That's how he works: personally. He meets every new employee and works out what makes them tick, and deals with them himself if they fail – but from meeting them, he's like, the master delegator. He understands them, so he knows where to send them, and exactly where they'll fit into his plan."

"I don't understand how this helps us," Roy said. He was pacing, frustrated, not liking the idea of them all being there together – and Thea alone. Well, in a mansion guarded by forty guys with a nearly undefeatable security system, but he'd still feel a lot better with a member of the team there.

"Because he understands you too, or at least he thinks he does," Lena explained, wringing her hands together. Her habit of fidgeting with everything annoyed the hell out of Roy, but it was just her way of holding back emotion. "We can use that to our advantage. If we're all a part of his plan and he thinks he knows us, then what happens if we stop playing along? His world falls apart. I'm saying we should start doing exactly what he wouldn't expect us to do. Break his rules. Change tack."

"-Tic," Felicity burst out before she could stop herself. "Change tactics. I hate it when people shorten words."

"Actually, the idea that 'change tack' is short for 'tactics' is a complete bastardisation of the original phrase," Lena informed her sister. At the challenge, Felicity's brow shot up playfully in an 'oh, really?' expression, making her sister laugh.

"It's a sailing term," Oliver confirmed. He looked at Lena quizzically, wondering how on earth she knew that, but she just nodded back, swinging in her chair and sipping the ice tea she'd got from upstairs.

"I thought you'd like it."

"You 'tack' downwind if you've got a dead wind and have no other option - basically you cut left to right across open water to gain speed," he explained, remembering from when he and his father used to go sailing, then looked her dead in the eye with a grin, "are you suggesting we zig-zag?"

"Why not? Slade will expect us to come right at him, but the path towards him doesn't have to be a straight one. We can weave our way closer, not be where he expects us to be."

"It's slower," Oliver pointed out.

"It's still the right direction. Forwards is better than back."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Slade can only do what he does because he has the money – the weapons, the men, the silence he buys is what gives him the edge."

"So we cut him off," Felicity said, picking up on her sister's train of thought quickly, the two more in synch than they realized. But then she frowned, "but we've been trying to do that for months, taking down whoever he sends at us. It's never stopped him before."

"You're always reacting. It gives them the upper hand that you don't know their plans, so that the transaction is already made by the time you intervene. You get them after the fact, but we need to start hitting them before: taking out whatever crime rings he's set up, stopping anything he wants from getting inside the city," Lena finally put her drink down and got to her feet, "I was inside, only for a few days, but I make it my business to know what's going on and where. I have some of the inside intel to get us started, and we'll just have to convince others to talk once we've taken them down. Stop them before it happens, Slade doesn't get his money. Take away that -"

"It's a lot harder for him to stay hidden," Oliver said, nodding. "Good plan."

"We can't leave Thea alone, it's not safe!" Roy shouted, startling all of them. He ran his hand through his hair in anger, trying to stop his fists from trembling. "You all seem to be forgetting that Slade threatened her life six days ago. He can hurt her again; we can't go against him . . ."

To his surprise, Lena smiled, "_We_ can." She said confidently, and her edge was catching, the room seemed electrified with the hope which came from having an actual plan, something they'd lacked in the chaos of the recent weeks. She jerked a finger at Oliver, "_he_ can't."

"What?" Oliver asked, "But I'm the Arrow!"

"Don't get all possessive," Felicity scolded, silencing his complaints.

"Oliver stays with Thea. He's the Arrow, and the best equipped and placed to protect her. Even if Slade goes after her, he'll be in for a huge shock when Oliver's there; ready to fight back," Lena grinned, "especially since the Arrow will be busy taking out his men."

Now, Roy looked curious, "How?"

"Diggle can wear the hood just as well as Oliver can. Sara could probably do the job all by herself – she ex-league of assassins, for God's sake! Felicity can get us into just about anywhere; and you're our muscle, on account of the whole super-strength thing," Lena smiled at them all, gaze finally returning to Oliver. She knew he was the Arrow, so the decision lay with him. "That's your team; they're skilled enough to carry the weight. Between us, the entire city _and_ your sister can be covered. Trust your team."

To everyone's surprise, Oliver beamed at the idea. "And where do you fit into this?"

"Consider me your Jack of all Trades," Lena grinned, holding out her hands, "I'll go wherever I'm needed."

Looking around the Foundry, images of all the times spent there; good and bad, bloody and scared, laughing or crying filled Oliver's mind. He thought of the people with him. The people, it was safe to say, he trusted more than anyone in the world. The kid was right – they were talented, skilled more than he was in some cases, and to be relied on. They could do it, together. Nodding more to himself than anyone, the whole team looked at each other, and Oliver had a final question: "when do we begin?"

* * *

**A/N: **_Yay for team moments! They've been my favourite things to write so far, and I'm really excited to write the next few chapters (I'm a few ahead) when Barry comes back and helps out. Just cause I love Barry Allen. And his family will start making appearances not long after that too. Please keep reviewing and following cause I really love writing this fic.**  
**_


	15. Becomming the dream team

** 'Becoming the dream team'**

The plan worked. It took two long months work, but Diggle, Sara, Lena, Felicity and Roy took out all of Slade's incoming shipments to the city, cutting off his weapon supply, and started to strategically take out his teams working in the city. Crime dropped as they took out the main players, leaving Slade with a decimated army and dwindling funds. During this time, Deathstroke attacked the Queen mansion once – and was surprised to find Oliver there. The Arrow had grinned as he drove him and his men off the lawn, until Slade called a retreat, hoping to re-group with his gang on the docks – only to find they had been arrested that very evening.

Of course, some missions went better than others, and there were always injuries and hard choices to make. Two months into their raids, Felicity and Lena had just got home in the early hours of the morning, collapsing in synch on the sofa, when the eldest sister made a decision.

"I want to go see mom," Felicity said quietly. They had fallen back into the cushions of the sofa, aching and tired with the intention of sleeping for about twelve hours. The remark made Lena freeze.

"What do you mean?"

"I know I wasn't there, and I probably don't deserve to go, but I've been thinking, and I want to go see her. Put some flowers on the grave, do something. Maybe apologise and get some peace," Felicity explained, not knowing what reaction to expect.

"Do what you have to," Lena replied confidently, something her sister hadn't expected. She looked earnest, "I forgave you for leaving. You've got to forgive yourself now, and if seeing mom will help with that – go."

"So you'll come? I was thinking we could take a break from this; just the two of us go on a trip back to Coast city for a few days. The others can handle it here and we can-"

"I can't go, Fee."

Felicity frowned, sitting up to meet her sibling's eye, "Why not?"

"I let go of that part of my life. I can't move on if I keep looking back, you've gotta understand. When I came here, I'd done my grieving, and I know you still have to do yours before you can let go – but I have." Lena told her, wincing; she looked apologetic but decided, "I'm sorry; maybe you can take Oliver or Diggle? Take a friend, someone you trust."

"It's okay. I will, or maybe I'll wait for a few months."

"Fee, no. It's been eating you up, and I noticed, okay? You look at me sometimes with that look on your face like you've just done something awful – you haven't. You've been having trouble sleeping too, I know. You can't put something this important off; holding on to this pain won't help anyone. Please, promise me you'll go?"

"I promise," Felicity said. "Um, goodnight. Try and get some sleep."

Felicity dashed from the room in a hurry, going into her own bedroom and shutting the door before Lena could even think to call out to her. Inside, the older sister leaned against her door and shut her eyes. It had been a stupid idea, but now she'd made a promise – she kept those. Wandering over to her bed and sitting among the crumpled covers, she wondered who'd even have to time she make the trip with her. Knowing any of the team gladly would, the only question she had was _who_? It was a big thing for her. She had to take the right person.

That question kept Felicity Smoak up for most of the night.

* * *

In the end, she didn't have to ask anyone. A day or two later she and Sara were hanging out in the Foundry, just chatting and checking out the city from security cameras, when Oliver walked in. He had two bags under his arms and a grin on his face.

"Oliver?" Felicity asked, confused, "shouldn't you be with Thea?"

"Diggle's with her. And he will be for at least the next two days," Oliver revealed, stopping in front of them and slamming the bags down. "We're going on a road trip."

"We're _what_?"

"Lena told me you wanted to visit your mother's grave, so we're going. No arguments," Oliver added, as she opened her mouth to do just that. He put a hand on her shoulder firmly, "This is important to you. So Diggle's going to look after Thea for a few days while we're away, and Roy, your sister and Sara will handle things here. Sorted."

"But-"

"No buts," Oliver cut her off. "Look, Lena's already packed your bags, I've got a car outside and we're only a couple of hours drive away. We won't be gone for long – they'll manage."

"Are you sure?" Felicity asked. If she were honest, this was a perfect fix. She desperately wanted to go, "what if something happens?"

"Then we'll come back."

"But there are more important things we have to do."

"Felicity, nothing is more important than you," Oliver said, squeezing her shoulder before stepping back and picking up their bags. He offered her an elbow, "Are you coming?"

Felicity looked to Sara, who nodded back with a smile, "Go. Don't worry; I'll stop your sister from getting into too much trouble while you're gone."

"Thank you," Felicity said, looking at them both. She was touched by the effort the entire team seemed to have gone to, all to make her happy; putting other things aside for her. There might have been times when she felt alone, but then they did something like this and she knew it was never true. Her smile said all of that as she took Oliver's arm, and he grinned down at her.

"I have a road trip playlist ready for the journey," he revealed in a whisper, grinning like a child as she rolled her eyes, "a break sounds great right now, and I'm actually excited to see where you grew up."

"It's nothing like the city," Felicity warned him.

"A change of scenery would be welcome."

Felicity teased, "Turned your back on your ways quick there, city boy."

"Shut up," Oliver laughed back, "Starling will always be my home."

"Then let's see what you think of mine," she added grimly, as they started their ascent up the metal stairs. She wanted this, to go home and see her mom's grave – but she was also wary of letting Oliver see that old life of hers. Her childhood was something they'd only recently learnt of, and something she wouldn't ever talk about. Now she was practically walking Oliver into it.

"Stay safe!" Sara shouted as they left the Foundry arm in arm. She was happy for them, but her guts still twisted uncomfortably as she looked around the empty space and felt very, very alone.

* * *

Sara's thoughts were brief, however, as the next day came with a less than welcome phone call from Diggle's old ARGUS buddies. They forced her to help them on a mission, leaving her only time to suit up and leave a number for Roy and Lena to call before leaving the Foundry. With Oliver and Diggle out, it left the kids alone – something none of them had counted on.

"What's this?" Lena asked, as she and Roy entered an empty Foundry on that second day. On the computer-top was a scribbled number, which she held up to show her friend, "think we should call it?"

"I dare you to," Roy laughed, and Lena pulled out her phone to do just that. He didn't have time to protest before it was ringing on loudspeaker, and he was relieved Sara picked up.

"Listen, ARGUS has got me working with a team or theirs today and there's no way I can get out of it. I won't be gone for longer than 24 hours," Sara explained quickly. Lena and Roy frowned at each other, knowing this was odd; they could hear a rumbling in the background of the call, like she was in a car, occasionally punctuated by gunfire. "This means we can't do the mission tonight."

"But Sara, the guys we were supposed to get have been stealing intel for months. Taking StarLab updates to use against us and sell – we've got to stop them. And there won't be another opportunity like this for another month!" Lena protested.

"I promised to look after the pair of you, and you're not doing it alone."

"But-"

"No! It's too dangerous – you stand down for tonight. Got it?" Sara ordered.

Lena bit in the inside of her cheek to stop the bitter response aching to come out; knowing arguing wouldn't do anyone any good. Instead, she sighed and said calmly, "Fine."

Sara sounded relieved, "I'll be home soon. Stay out of trouble."

The phone clicked off. Roy, who had paced across the room, stalking like a caged beast with an expression of disgust at abandoning the mission, waited a whole five seconds before asking, "we're still going to take them down, right?"

"Absolutely," Lena replied without a beat. She knew it was a betrayal of trust, but she also knew that some things were more important. Stopping Slade's flow of knowledge and money was important. They had to carry on and do this by themselves, regardless of the fact that the others seemed to think they were incapable kids and they'd never worked alone before. She looked at Roy, who was grinning, having expected that exact answer. She nodded to Oliver's costume, "Question is: which one of us is wearing the hood?"

* * *

When Sara got back to the Foundry that night to find it deserted, two bows and Oliver's costume gone, to say she was pissed off would be an understatement. Slamming her fist against the table, the blood on her knuckles still drying from her mission that day, she let out a scream of annoyance.

"Oh, you motherfu-"

"I hope you're not talking about us," Oliver joked, entering the room. Felicity followed him, both of their faces tanned and flushed from their two days by the coast in the sun. As they entered cheerily, Sara noticed that they also had dirt on their faces, and Oliver had a cut below his lip. Then she saw what they were wearing, and had to hold back a laugh. Something had clearly happened on their trip. But when they saw Sara's grim expression, both of their faces fell, Oliver's darkening, "what's happened?"

"ARGUS called me in and threatened to expose us if I didn't help them. Diggle's old friends are jerks," Sara told them, then looked down, "I was only gone for twelve hours . . ."

"Where's my hood?" Oliver asked after looking around the room. His hood and mask were vanished, along with two arrows, and he could guess why. He looked back at Sara, "Roy and Lena still went after the IT thieves, didn't they?"

"I tried to stop them-"

"You mean they're out there alone?" Felicity asked, paling instantly as she looked between her two friends, "they're just kids, they'll get themselves killed. What were they thinking?"

"Probably that this was important," Oliver sighed, "it's not their fault, we've all been telling them for the past two months how important stopping Slade is. Of course they still went."

"So what do we do?" Sara asked.

"We go and get them, make sure they haven't caused too big of a mess."

* * *

Roy and Lena stood on a rooftop in the city, watching as the police arrested the gang of IT thieves they had apprehended below. It was simple really – all they had to do was adjust their original plan to a two person job, fight a handful of men, more computer hackers than fighters, and wait for the cops to show. The men were tied up like a Christmas parcel by the time officer Lance arrived; so the two vigilantes watched their work pay off. Another one of Slade's operations taken down, stopping his flow of knowledge the men were stealing, information on robotics, bio-chem and basically dangerous stuff. Who knew what a maniac like Slade wanted with that information, but it was nothing good.

Roy stood on the roof itself, leaning against the stone wall, but Lena was sitting on it with her legs dangling right over the edge. The height didn't seem to faze her at all, and flashing blue lights danced in both of their eyes, a sign of their success that night. Roy looked to the girl on his left, a small smile forming on his lips: they had been a good team tonight. It was a result of their training, but also the times they'd spent away from the others, laughing and just hanging out. Roy had always been lonely, and he wondered if this was what having a friend was meant to be like – having each other's backs, no matter what.

"We worked well together," he remarked aloud.

"We did," Lena grinned back excitedly, "I'm telling you – the adults are getting too old for this. I think we showed 'em we're more than capable to handle ourselves."

"Definitely," Roy said, half a laugh escaping him before his face grew serious, "listen . . ."

"What?" she asked when he trailed off, looking awkward and lost, so she laughed at him. "You look like you swallowed a bug there, buddy. What caused that face?"

"It's just um, I've never really had friends . . ." Roy revealed, ducking his gaze and looking embarrassed, before reaching out an open hand to her, "let alone a best one."

To his surprise, the words only made her grin wider, but instead of taking his hand, she held out her own – in a fist.

"No way," Roy laughed, throwing his head back, "what are we, twelve?"

"Come on."

"You're an idiot."

"You're soooo gonna fist-bump me," Lena raised her eyebrows, "you know you wanna."

Eventually, Roy gave in and laughing, touched their fists together. He felt dorky and dumb doing it, but couldn't stop laughing, putting his face in his hands immediately after to try and stop himself from laughing. He looked up at her, "we are never doing that again."

Lena only smirked, "that's what you think. Come on, we better get back before Sara finds out we're gone and has a heart attack."

* * *

When Roy and Lena wandered into the Foundry, the first words they overheard at the top of the stairs were: "we go and get them, make sure they haven't made too big of a mess." At the words, obviously spoken by Oliver, the two younger people exchanged a look of sarcastic disdain.

After a second Lena sighed, saying loud enough for the adults to hear, "Spoken like you have no faith in us."

And with that, she hopped onto the banister of the stairs, sliding down with her feet over one side gracefully, and Roy jogged down the stairs just behind her. He hid a laugh at her dramatic comment, noticing how quickly the other's head turned up at their entrance, wondering whether they were about to be yelled at or praised. Sara looked angry, but all three faces turned instantly to relief as he and Lena strode right on in, still pumped from their victory; bumping shoulders and wanting to scream and cheer. It felt good to have done something by himself, he felt . . . powerful. But more than that, he felt useful; like he had done something good. All himself – well, and a good friend.

"What were you thinking?" Sara asked, looking between them disappointedly, and Roy inwards thought how good a teacher she would make – she had the stern look down to an art. "I told you to stay out of trouble!"

"We had a job to do," Roy told her, shrugging; "we did it. Everyone's okay."

Oliver had a remarkably blank face, "But you shouldn't be going on missions alone, neither of you. And certainly not against a direct order."

"I thought we were a team, which means no orders!" Roy argued, trying not to get angry. The manic joy of ten minutes ago was being taken away by their words, but he refused to feel guilty. They had done the right thing. "As a team, _we_ made a decision to complete the task we'd started. Unless you think of us as being below you, to order about."

"No, of course not-"

"Good," Lena interrupted, brushing aside the tension as casually as flicking the pages of a paper, "Listen, I don't wanna fight about this, and neither does Roy. We prioritised and nothing went wrong, we stopped an important part of Slade's information flow and nobody ever has to know that it wasn't the Arrow out there tonight. Just let us have a victory for once. This is the first time I haven't had my ass totally kicked, and that feels so damn good."

She tried a smile at the others, so bright and full of hope. The blaze of victory still burned in her eyes, and Oliver thought she'd never looked more like Felicity as she did in that moment. He softened momentarily, looking between them. Then he sighed, "I think people are going to know it wasn't me out there tonight. No offence."

"Actually, they won't," she shook her head confidently.

"Lena, _you're_ wearing the suit. I think somebody is going to notice that the Arrow suddenly has . . . lady parts, and has got about five inches shorter."

It was true: the younger girl wore the green hood, but with dark green leggings of her own, his 'arrow' leather green pants being much too big for her when she'd tried them on, making the whole outfit look a lot more curved and feminine. Although the hood still covered most of her face, that part of his costume fitting her well, she wore his black mask underneath, the edges of her bright yellow hair just sticking out of the edges of the hood, vibrant against the dark green. It didn't look completely out of place – but with her added height difference, she was fooling no one.

"Oliver, if you call boobs 'lady parts', it sounds like you've never seen any," she snapped sarcastically, an almost automatic patronising response by now, and his mouth instantly shut in his fluster. She only hooked an eyebrow, exchanging a look with her giggling sister, before going on, "and as for the height thing, I sorted that, it's all about perspective."

"Meaning?" Sara asked curiously.

"From a distance, height is warped by perspective," Lena explained with a shrug, before explaining more literally, "I look taller from further away. By the distance, you could be tricked into thinking I was a full grown man, aka the Arrow – so I stood on a rooftop and shot arrows while Roy rounded up people on the ground. Hit enough things so that a majority of my shots looked accurate. They never saw me close enough to realize I was a girl, and the Arrow was still seen to be taking out bad guys. Problem sorted. So, what do you think, are we off the hook, _sir_?"

"I think . . ." Oliver started, looking vaguely dazed. He was seriously impressed, although her lip was starting to become a habit, but if he were honest with himself he felt proud, and couldn't quite think what to say, so he put a hand on each of their shoulders, "I think you're _both_ a lot smarter than you give yourselves credit for."

"Hey," Roy laughed, pointing to his team-mate on his left, "it was all her plan. I just punched a couple of guys and zip-tied them to lampposts until the cops showed up."

"Don't put yourself down. The two of you planned and carried out a mission by yourselves which usually would have been done by older, more experienced people."

"So humble," Roy commented, and Oliver slapped the side of his head. The bond between the two was slowly fixing and being rebuilt, but it was getting there. Maybe they'd end up closer than any of them expected, almost like father and son.

"Shut up, I'm trying to congratulate you," Oliver told him. "I'm sorry we doubted you, and you've proved yourselves to be competent members of this team. Just let us know what's going on next time, alright?"

"You got it, robin hood," Lena laughed. She walked over to her sister, tilting her head apologetically, "are you mad?"

"Proud," Felicity replied, and images of Oliver saying the exact same thing to her flashed through her mind. She tried a small smile, "just don't make me worry again."

"Fee, you don't have to worry about me."

"I always worry about you."

Lena blinked hard at that, changing the subject quickly, "how was the trip?"

"Eventful."

"Are you going to expand on that?"Felicity exhaled, sharing a look with Oliver, who shrugged. She turned back to her sister, "it's kind of a long story."

"I've got time," Lena said, moving to sit on the desk Sara was leaning on, legs swinging midair and a dumb smile on her face. "But please, start with: _what the hell are you wearing_?"

In the end her sister relented, and Roy stuck around to listen too, sitting on the side of the room, on a table with his back against the wall. Sharing another look, Felicity and Oliver started telling the story of their trip. Theirs was less successful, but they were all living off the high of the two younger kids, and although they didn't know it at the time, the victory of their little team that night was much greater than having a handful of guys arrested.

* * *

When the news of another group of his men being reached Slade Wilson, he was not a happy man. For two months now Oliver and his troop of wannabe heroes had been taking away all of his resources: guns, drugs, and now even his stealing and sale of intelligence had been shut down. He had nothing left, which left him with only one option: a strategic retreat.

He had to leave Starling until he had the funds to return again. It would mean a momentary victory would have to be handed to Oliver Queen, a thought which sickened him, but it could be useful – in his time away he could train, regain his money and lure them into a false sense of safety. So that when he came back, he'd be back to tear it all down, and they wouldn't know what hit them.

Cursing and taking out his rage on his already limited troops, Slade had slunk away into the shadows that night with what was left of his men, leaving the city to re-collect funds elsewhere, but vowing to be back, this time to take out the entire 'team Arrow'.

* * *

**A/N: **_so I sort-of like this chapter a lot, which is a fun thing to be able to say. I usually hate things when I post them. Sorry it's a little later up tonight, I just got back from the theatre at the RSC! Please keep reviewing, kind people!_


	16. The trip

**'The trip'**

Felicity and Oliver had got to Coast City at around 1am two nights before, booking into a hotel Oliver insisted on paying for, their rooms adjourning, before they had said goodnight and headed straight to bed. The morning would bring something Felicity for one was dreading – going to the graveyard. Oliver had planned it for them to get there that night, leaving the next day completely free, so Felicity could spend as much or as little time as she needed at her mother's grave. He knew it couldn't be easy. The day after he wanted to look around the city, hopefully with her, and see where the two girls had grown up. He fell asleep almost instantly as his head hit the pillow, knowing he'd need a good night's rest to be at his best tomorrow. His friend needed his support, so he needed to be alert. Oliver was determined not to let her down.

Felicity, on the other hand, looked around her room suspiciously as soon as Oliver had disappeared behind the closed door. The hotel had been picked by him, so was flashy and too huge; she glanced around at the large bed in the centre of the room, a flat-screen TV on the wall, an odd modern painting consisting of orange flashes and blue lines above the bed. There was a pale cream carpet all the way from the wall across to a giant window overlooking most of the city. Coast was smaller than Starling, but still a big city in itself – tiny twinkling lights met her eyes on the other side of the glass, a city she still remembered like the back of her hand buzzing just outside. Half of her lip twitched up as she crossed the room to look out, resisting the urge to take off her shoes as she did so, for fear of marking the immaculate carpet. She dropped her jacket on the bed as she passed and came to a stop in front of the glass disbelievingly. Felicity had thought she'd never return to this city.

"Guess I'm home," she said aloud, but nobody was listening but the lights. With a sigh, she tore her eyes away and walked back into the lavish hotel room, stopping only to wash up before lying down to sleep.

* * *

As it turned out, Sleep wasn't that easy for her to find. Felicity woke up before long from a nightmare, face covered in sweat and breathing erratic. Tumbling from her bed, the sheets detangled themselves from her as she sat on the floor, back against the bed, and tried to slow her racing heart. She hadn't had dreams that bad for months. Something about being back and knowing what would come with tomorrow was getting to her; she knew sleeping again was not so good of an idea. Grabbing her phone from the table beside the bed, she turned it on to see the time: 3:17am. Once she had calmed down a little, she got unsteadily to her feet, stumbling towards something familiar – the window.

She got to it and leant against it, forehead and shoulder on the glass. Underneath her skin it was cool, refreshing, so she shook her head to clear it and focused on the horizon, but the image of her hometown meeting her was too strong to ignore. Before long, Felicity saw the few lights left blur as her eyes got hot with tears. As she closed them, the tears fell, tracing lines down her cheeks as she stood at the window in the dark. But before she could get too upset, her gaze was momentarily distracted – as she looked up. Stars met her eyes.

Felicity half-laughed, her tears drying, as she remembered her sister's favourite part about their hometown. Unlike Starling, which was always lit up like a Christmas tree, the lights here were dimmer, allowing the stars to be seen above the skyline; constellations they had learned as children. Felicity remembered Lena's love of the stars, and how they'd sit at the window for hours, phoning her sister before she'd even thought about the time difference or early hours. It rung a few times before Lena answered, sounding more breathless than sleepy.

"Hello?"

"I'm sorry," Felicity started, the shake in her voice audible, "I shouldn't have called this late-"

"It's fine. What's wrong? Did something happen? You don't sound too good, Fee."

"Nothing happened it's just . . ."

"Being home isn't as easy as you thought it'd be?" Lena guessed correctly. She sat down, trying to see if she could hear anything in her sister's voice to work out her troubles. Felicity was never a good liar, especially not to her. "You can talk to me, you know that."

"I just feel so guilty," Felicity admitted, seeing no point in hiding the truth, "I left this place and you guys behind, and now I'm back everything that I've missed is just crushing me. I couldn't sleep so I went to the window – remember how much you used to love the stars? I spent hours learning all the constellations online so I could teach you their names."

"I remember," Lena smiled.

"I can see them now. They're still the same," Felicity sighed, "I just – I don't know what to do. I don't even know what I'll do tomorrow – do I talk to mom? Do I deserve that?"

"You deserve a life, Fee. You can't move on 'till you've let this go, but I can't tell you what to say, you have to decide that for yourself. I don't know how to do it – but forgive yourself. Maybe when you get there, it'll all make sense. Maybe it won't be that easy, I don't know. You've just got to try."

"How did you move on?"

"I found you," Lena answered. She laughed a little down the phone, and just the sound of her voice was putting Felicity at ease. "I have a lot to thank you for the last few months. Being on your team, what you've taught me – it did more than give me a second chance, it gave me a distraction. Eventually it stops hurting, I promise. Just . . . try and deal with it tomorrow, okay?"

"I will. You should probably get back to sleep."

"Right," Lena lied, looking around her. She wasn't at Felicity's apartment but the Foundry, empty apart from her, with one of Oliver's training dummies in front of her. It was an hour behind Coast City there, so just gone two in the morning, so she hadn't expected the phone call, having to run across the room to answer it before swinging in circles on her sister's chair as she talked. She was dressed casually in her grey tank top and sweats, the work-out helping her to calm down on her own time without anyone being there, but still felt guilty lying to her sister. "You should too. And don't just say you will and then sit up all night worrying, it won't help."

Felicity let go of a heavy breath again, still leaning against the window, "I wish it were that easy."

"Fine, if you can't sleep, at least don't be alone. You took Oliver for a reason, remember? Go sit with him or speak to him."

"I think he's probably sleeping."

"So wake him up," Lena said. "You took him because he's your friend, so he's not going to mind. Just don't be alone. I mean it."

"I got it." Felicity agreed, biting her lip. She knew her sister was right, and didn't doubt for a minute that Oliver would mind the interruption, but the thought still made her uneasy. "Night, Lena."

"Goodnight, Fee." Lena hung up her phone and got back to her feet. Stretching her arms out, she walked back to the dummy, more like a giant pole with extending rods which swung as you hit it, and readied herself. It was a simple thing, but it felt good to really pummel something and release a bit of energy. Plus without anyone there, she no longer had to hold herself back. Striking the pole with her left fist, palm open, moving fast as lightning to avoid the rotating columns arms as she hit again and again until the morning.

* * *

Oliver was woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of knocking at his door. Reflexes kicking in naturally at the sharp sound, he was sitting upright in bed in a second, centring in on the noise as he remembered his surroundings. He was in Coast City, in a hotel room. Waking up scared for five years always messed with his senses when he first awoke, especially when he woke up quickly, to a loud sound. He was on his feet and silently moving towards the door in moments, pausing on the other side to sneak a glimpse through the small hole in its centre to see who was there. When he saw it was Felicity, he sighed in relief, taking the chain off the door and opening it with a worried expression.

"Felicity," he said, rubbing his eyes as the light from the corridor met them. When they adjusted he saw her before him, white robe wrapped around her tightly and face wet with tears. Suddenly aware that he was wearing only a t-shirt and boxers, he felt his face grow hot, but he tried to hide it. "What's wrong? Have you been crying?"

"I – I" Felicity stammered, "Can I stay with you for a while?"

She looked desperate, and all he did for an answer was step aside, allowing her to pass. She walked in, arms around herself, until she stopped hesitantly before sitting on the edge of his bed. He sat down next to her, the bed dipping slightly under his weight, and looked at her with worry in the lines of his brow.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently, "do you want to talk?"

Felicity shook her head, "I just called Lena. She um, she said I shouldn't be alone - that I wasn't. I'm sorry for waking you."

"She was right. And you don't have to be sorry," he told her, putting an arm around her shoulders. She was shivering, so he held her closely, "I'm here."

"Thank you. Do you think we can just sit – not all night, just for a while?"

"We can sit for as long as you want to," Oliver said kindly, "we've got all the time in the world. Just don't keep it all inside, okay? I'm here for you, for anything. If you want to talk -"

"I know. I've always got you."

He smiled at that, as she put her head on his shoulder, chest fluttering, and just listened to them breathing for a while. Oliver's breath against her head was almost hypnotic; for a while at a time she would fall asleep in his arms and wake up feeling protected, not panicked. Every time she awoke abruptly he tightened his grip a little, always vigilant, and they rested in his half-awake state all night. Neither of them spoke about it afterwards, they didn't need to – he was there when she needed him. Simple as that.

* * *

It was late the next morning when Felicity and Oliver finally came to a stop in the graveyard. It hadn't taken them long to find the right stone: it was black marble with white writing, standing out among all the grey. Felicity smiled; she liked that. Letting go of Oliver's hand, she knelt for a second by the grave to place the flowers she had brought on it, leaning against the stone, and gently brushed her fingers against the carved name.

"Hey, mom," she whispered quietly, voice cracking on the second word. The flowers were small and purple, so fresh and living in a place full of dead. Still kneeling, and aware of Oliver taking a few steps backwards to give her some space, Felicity tried to clear her mind. She'd promised to try – but finding the words to say was proving to be difficult. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry I left. I should have been there . . ."

She trailed off. A tear or two tracked her face, but she held herself strongly. Oddly, the words just being said made her feel lighter. The grave had no response, but she almost felt like it was listening.

"It was a mistake. I should have been braver, should have faced my fear instead of running away – it doesn't mean anything now, but I'm not scared anymore. I have a family, although it's small, and Lena's only just found her place in it; we protect each other. My friends and me – we try to save people. They're heroes. And I think maybe I'm a part of that. I try to help, at least." She puffed out her cheeks, wiping her tears away and trying not to get too upset. Feeling Oliver approach, she got to her feet in time for him to catch her by the arm, holding onto her hand as they stood over the grave.

"It's strange to think that there's one of these with my name on it," he commented, nodding to the grave. "From when they thought I drowned," he added in response to her confused face.

"Oh. That _is_ odd," Felicity agreed. "It just seems more real now I'm looking at it. I wish I'd had the guts to go and see her, just one more time, tell her I loved her."

"I'm sure she knew," he said, squeezing her hand. They shoulders were touching, and although she was crying, she stood in front of the grave bravely. She stared down defiantly, if possible. Like she was determined to see this through, whatever it was for her; he was proud. Even if all he could offer was a hand to hold. "You can always tell her now."

"Would she even hear me?"

"I believe that the people you love, really love, will hear you no matter what," Oliver said. She looked at him sharply, not expecting the words from him, as her mouth turned downwards. His eyes were still on the grave, so he missed her look. After a moment, Felicity looked back down to the grave, feeling more choked up than before.

"I love you," she said loudly. The words were like hot knives in Oliver's chest, and he imagined what it would be like to hear those words directed at him. But he knew they were not. "Mom, I love you and I'm sorry. Please, if you can hear this – please forgive me."

The tears suddenly fell thick at saying the words aloud, torn from her throat in a sob, and Felicity had to lift her hands to her mouth, pressed into a wobbling line, and take a breath before she could even choke the last part out. When it was done, she felt a surge of relief, which didn't help with the crying. Hands pressed over her mouth, she crumpled and cried, from regret, relief, and heartbreak. Her vision blurred as she twisted, and suddenly Oliver's arms were around her, face in his blue shirt, slowly being soaked with her tears, taking away the view of the grave. Oliver wrapped her up nice and safe, but kept his own eyes on the stone. Maria Smoak. He'd have liked to meet her.

"Come on," he said softly. Oliver started to walk them away, down the aisle of graves with her head still bowed and shaking. "You did it, let's go. It's going to be okay."

Felicity didn't respond, just nodded as they walked – until a grave in front of them exploded, sending bits of rock towards them as a bullet hit it.

"Watch out!" Oliver roared on instinct, body moving to cover hers as he pushed them both to the floor, sheltered behind rows of graves. Knelling in the grass, his hand went to Felicity's face, now covered in dirt from falling, "are you hurt?"

"No," she shook her head, glancing around. "Who's shooting at us?"

"I don't know," Oliver said through gritted teeth, back against a gravestone. Then the next one along got shot, taking a piece out of it, and he decided it was time to move. Looking across, he saw that there was a straight diagonal run between the graves to the nearest gate out of the churchyard, and nodded in that direction. He spoke to Felicity, needing her to be ready, "Okay, when I say so, you're going to run towards that gate, stopping for cover behind those graves every few seconds. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes – but what about you?"

"I'm going to distract the shooter," Oliver nodded, squeezing her hand once, "Don't look back, don't stop running – I'll find you afterwards, I promise. Ready?" he waited until she nodded, and then shouted, "Go!"

As the words left his mouth, Felicity was up and running, back bent to try and shelter herself, but even as she ran the graves she ducked behind were being taken out by an unseen shooter, and he felt his heart leap into his mouth – nobody hurt Felicity. No way was he going to let that stand. Luckily, paranoid as he was, Oliver never left the house unarmed, so pulled out a small device from a hidden pocket in his jacket, round and metal like a grenade. Which effectively, it was. Pressing a small button on its side, he waited for the four required seconds, after which he risked standing in the open and throwing the device as hard as he could in the direction the bullets were coming from. It hit the grass in front of a grave, behind which he briefly glimpsed a man in black kneeling with a sniper gun. This sniper was inaccurate though, nothing like Deadshot, and most of his shots hit harmless graves. Oliver took only the time to glimpse him, kneel, and put his hands over his ears tightly before the device detonated.

It was mostly just sparks, not an actual explosive, but that and the smoke and dirt shower it provided gave Oliver the chance to sprint through the cemetery, meeting up with Felicity as she ran on the other side of the gate and taking her hand.

"We need somewhere to hide," he told her, attempting to pull her into a suburban area to their left, but to his surprise, she argued back.

"No, this way!" she shouted, pulling him in the opposite direction – towards a different neighbourhood of tightly cramped streets and shops – selling a variety of flamboyant and what he guessed were illegal things. The first shop he passed sold a variety of bongs, and he was sure the girls standing in the shadows between these shops were hookers. Oliver didn't know what his friend was thinking; surely heading _away_ from crime was the best idea. But Felicity seemed to know where she was going, cutting through the streets without hesitation at a run, weaving through back alleys like she'd done it a thousand times before, even jumping a chain-link fence at one point to get to a less crowded area. From there, she turned and headed east, running through fields and jumping gates with so much confidence so that even though he was sure they'd lost the shooter by now, Oliver followed her. It was only when grass slowly turned to sand, and they eventually crested a large hill that he stopped.

They were standing overlooking a large beach, dotted occasionally with people but nothing like the crowded golden sands of Coast City he vaguely remembered from holidays in his youth.

"Where are we?" Oliver asked.

"This is Keeper's Bay," Felicity answered, looking across the sands with a kind of nostalgia. There was an ancient wooden pier on one end of the beach, with nothing on top of it but benches and the view. It was quiet and peaceful, "the best hiding place I knew. We used to come here is kids – the main beach is three miles that way," she pointed to their left, "if we need to get back to the main part of the city, all we have to do is follow the beach. Figured it was perfect."

"It is," Oliver sounded astounded, looking across the sands in awe, which only made her tug at his hand. They walked calmly the rest of the way to the beach, hand in hand, as Oliver looked around Felicity's hiding place like it was magical. "This place is actually kind of beautiful."

"It was the only place I could think of to run to."

"And here I am usually hiding out in warehouses and clubs," he laughed, "I like your hiding place better."

They couldn't stay for long, although Oliver mentally made a note to come back one day. They walked underneath the giant pier, its limbs of timber peeling white and neglected compared to the tourist hot-spot of the main beach, the waves crashing gently against the shore nearby. This beach was cleaner, quieter, and somehow secret – one she had shared with him. He knew the matter of who was shooting at them should have been more pressing on his mind, but Oliver couldn't focus on anything but the beauty of the place, and how serene and peaceful Felicity looked there. The sea suited her.

The path they walked down was sandy and winding, leading up cliffs and around coves for a few hours, until the main beach of Coast City came into view. They heard it before they saw it: sounds of people laughing and children screaming, blaring music, motorbikes and fairground music. The tourist hubbub Felicity used to hate when she lived there, but people also meant danger this time – without knowing who was after them, although neither of them doubted Slade was somehow involved, they had no idea where was safe to go. They couldn't go back to the hotel room either – it looked like they were going to have to make their own way home.

* * *

The next day, Felicity woke up aching. They'd spent the night in Coast City as planned – but slept on the beach, exposed and well – cold. At least at night. She wore Oliver's jacket as a blanket, which hadn't been there when she'd eventually fallen asleep to the lullaby of the waves, so she frowned as she sat up to find Oliver leaning against a rock, still awake.

"Did you sleep at all?" she asked.

"Nope," he replied casually, as she sat up on the rock opposite. They'd ditched their phones the day before, not wanting to be tracked. Apart from that, they were still at risk, and needed to get home to work out what was going on. She knew Oliver had picked up a shell casing that had been fired at them, as he was playing with it now, turning it over in his hands. "How much cash do we have?"

Felicity checked her purse and pockets, "Um, about eighty dollars, a packet of tissues, and a broken pair of headphones."

"I got just over a hundred – we'll have to try and get bus tickets back to Starling, it's too dangerous to go back how we planned. If they're trying to shoot us in the open like that, I guarantee someone will be watching the car."

"What about our stuff back at the hotel room?" Felicity asked.

"Was there anything in your bags that isn't replaceable?" Oliver asked.

"I don't think so – I took most of the important things out with me, it's all here."

"Then we have to leave it, I'm sorry," he told her. Oliver got to his feet and stretched, offering her a hand; one they both stood, he started to walk them towards the buzzing city, wary to stay out of sight of cameras. "But before we do anything we need to hide in plain sight – which means a change of image."

* * *

By the time they got on a bus that night, Oliver and Felicity looked nothing like themselves. Hair in a tied up in curls, Felicity wore blue shorts and sneakers with a brightly coloured blue shirt, a denim jacket over the top of it, sunglasses obscuring her face as she clutched onto a stack of brochures they'd grabbed like any other tourist to the city. She looked nothing like herself without her usual glamour, not liking her skin on show with the shorts and hating the slippery flip-flops on her feet even more. Oliver thought she still looked great.

On the other hand, she kept laughing at him for his 'disguise'. He wore light blue surfer shorts and purple flip-flops even more ridiculous than hers – and a purple and blue Hawaiian-style shirt, complete with flower patterns.

"You look ridiculous," Felicity whispered in a giggle as they took their seats on the crowded bus, still several hours away from being home. Oliver rolled his eyes dramatically at the statement.

"Thanks for telling me – for the 47th time," he replied dryly.

"Don't be so dramatic," Felicity laughed lightly, setting down into her sit. He sat beside her, but she had the window seat, leaning against it as she spoke. "You've got to learn to laugh at yourself, Oliver."

He didn't reply to that, just shook his head. "You should get some sleep if you can, we're a few hours' drive away, and it'll be night by the time we get home."

"You should too - you're the one who didn't sleep at all last night."

"I'll sleep when this is sorted."

"Take a few hours off from being a hero – be a tourist. You're dressed for the part. Please, get some sleep for me?" She batted her eyelids and he laughed, relaxing against the seat until she smiled.

"Okay – I'll sleep too, but you have to promise that you never make a joke about this again."

"Deal," Felicity grinned, "the pictures, on the other hand . . ."

Those pictures would come in useful later, she was sure. Although when they did get home, she was sure she saw both Lena and Roy taking subtle pictures of Oliver's ridiculous look of their own. She smiled, feeling better than she had in months. Going home had done a lot for her, good and bad, but she had a feeling that now was the time to move on. It was as she was telling this story, watching her sister laugh at the funny bits and look outraged that someone had tried to shoot them, as did the others, for that matter, that she finally had a family. All of them were.

Coming back to Starling felt like coming home to Felicity Smoak because it was her home how – and the fight to protect it was only just beginning.

* * *

**A/N: **_so the reviews have been slowing down, but please keep it up! I've been having mixed feelings about where to go with this for days, so tell me: should I kill of Lena and have her death as a motivator for Felicity to go on a revenge-driven hunt after Slade Wilson? Or have her there for a while including the justice league and then have something happen to her? I've envisioned which characters of the wider Dc universe she would get along or not with, but I don't mind cutting things depending on what people want. So, thoughts? Also I'm having fun seeing just how much of my own personal ships I can subtly slip in, so you'll all be drowning in halbarry before you know it. Sorry not sorry. **  
**_


	17. Expertise

** 'Expertise'**

Oliver forced Lena and Felicity to stay in the Queen's mansion for a few days after that. In the aftermath of their trip, he knew people were starting to make more desperate moves against them – if they tried to shoot him and Felicity at her mother's grave, he suspected she was in even more danger at home. That night, he ran the shell casing he'd picked up through all of the systems Felicity could hack: police, FBI, CIA – it came up with a match after a few hours. It was a bullet with the signature mark of some assassin from Europe, a pricey guy to hire but with a hit list as long as his arm and arrest warrants for pretty much everywhere. If it really had been this guy taking a shot at them, he must have been hired – probably by Slade; and Oliver knew they were lucky to be alive. Only his distraction and Felicity's quick getaway through the backstreets to the beach had kept them breathing.

This left Oliver with a few things on his mind. He had suspected that their clamping down on Slade's hold on the city by taking out his men and income would seriously piss off his former friend, but he had expected Slade to want to take them out himself. Which of course meant that Felicity was probably the target at the graveyard – no way Slade would let anyone but himself kill Oliver. But Felicity on the other hand – she had a definite target on her back, purely because of her connection to him. The guilt he felt was unbearable, as he kept the two sisters cooped up for fear of either one of them being attacked.

But days passed, blurring into a week – and everything stopped. There had been no reports of any of Slade's men in the city since Roy and Lena had taken in the thieves, and even Deathstroke himself was notably absent. It went too quiet to be comfortable, leaving too many questions and not enough safety.

"So," Diggle said at the end of this first week, voicing what they were all thinking, "does this mean it's over? Is he gone?"

They were all together for the first time in a while. With the momentary peace, they felt safe enough to leave the Queen's place unguarded, bringing them all together with nobody playing sentry. The Foundry was fuller than it had ever been, but instead of being crowded, the people in the space, talking and hanging about, pushed away the loneliness. Oliver thought back to a time it had just been him in here, fighting alone, as he looked around them, considering the words.

In the end, he just sighed, "I don't know."

"Finding out would be a good start then," Felicity commented. She was sat in the chair they all considered to be 'hers' now, and tilted her head as she spoke. "Because no offence Oliver, your place is fantastic – but I want to go home."

"Seconded," Lena added dryly, "your rooms are too big. I started singing to myself the other day and I swear there was an echo."

"But-" Oliver started.

"The big bad assassin might come back? I get it, but we can't be afraid forever. If Slade's left, it means we succeeded – he's got nothing left. And hit men cost money. Chances are, Slade only had the funds left for one hit. So I don't want to hide away forever; I can't live like that." Felicity spoke with confidence, as if she wasn't afraid at the slightest.

"If you get hurt because of me . . ."

"It will be my own decision."

At her words, Oliver stared at Felicity, slightly taken aback; the awkward seconds stretched out until Lena coughed and added, "Technically, I'd just get stabbed by association because I'm new to all of this, but I'm cool with it."

Oliver over looked at her, still uncertain. "I'd feel better if we knew for sure Slade was gone. If I knew you were both safe."

"Then let's find out," Diggle proposed, clapping his hands together. "Okay, so we know Slade's not the easiest person to find by ourselves, so the best option we got is someone who already knows where he is."

"Rochev," Sara supplied, "they seem tight. But she's not likely to just tell us."

"So we make her," Roy said bitterly, fist clenching of its own accord. He hated feeling this angry all of the time, but it burst out unexpectedly in moments like this and made him want to save people by any means. He didn't want to become that; he was a person, not a weapon.

"No!" Oliver, Sara and Diggle all shouted in unison, turning to him sharply. Under their gaze, his face twitched as he stepped back, holding up his hands, but Lena looked thoughtful at his words.

"There's more than one way to find out peoples secrets, you know," she pointed out. Like her sister, she was sitting, but on top of a table, legs dangling off the edge. The other's all turned at her words, a smirk slowly spreading on her face, "I'm sensing a covert operation coming. Hack her phone, emails . . . anything she knows, we'll know."

"Right, 'cause that'll be easy to swing," Oliver said, rolling his eyes. "Not only is Isabel smarter than your average criminal, but she's pumped up with Mirikuru now. No way will we be able to swipe her phone without her noticing."

"Could you hack it remotely?" Diggle spoke up, looking at Felicity.

"No, her computer works off the private mainframe at Queen's Consolidated," the older sister answered with an apologetic look. "Unless we did it while she's at work, get in and do the hack while she's out of the room," Felicity said softly, catching her sister's eyes and nodding. "She must leave things in her office occasionally, and there are enough people that we might go unnoticed."

"And how do you plan on sneaking in? None of us work there anymore, thanks to her!" Oliver shouted. "And if 'the Arrow' tears up her office, someone's going to notice the vigilante's sudden connection with QC. Between Thea getting kidnapped, and the fact that Slade seemed to be waging a war and QC _and_ the Arrow – I can't afford for someone to figure that out."

"Hello," Lena said, elongating the 'O' and wiggling her fingers, "Lena Smoak: resident thief."

"No way."

"Why not?" the teenager demanded, getting to her feet and stomping over to him, "And don't say 'because I'm a kid', because I_ will_ punch you." He made a face at that, clamping his lips shut as a sharp breath left him. When his gaze met hers again, she still glared at him defiantly, "It's my life, and my sister that I'm protecting! So before you even start spouting some bullshit about training – I was a thief before any of this. You have your area of expertise – I have mine. I can do this."

When Oliver didn't answer straight away, the girl in front of him snuck a glance at the faces of her teammates. Sara and Diggle both looked disapproving, but Roy looked impressed, hiding a laugh; Felicity looked the same as Oliver, thoughtful. Like they were both actually considering it.

"_If _you did this," Oliver said, looking back down at her, "what would you need?"

"I have everything I'll need at the apartment – all I'd need is for Felicity to do her thing and set up something which would hack Isabel's phone and computer."

"Which would take how long?" Oliver asked, turning to Felicity.

The older sister thought about it for a few minutes, biting her lip. She tapped a few keys on her computer, pulling up pieces of software and trying to work out how long it would take to run the right programmes. "A few hours. Maybe. I could set up a USB drive that could be put into any computer to clone it right to our server here in the Foundry, and the phone only takes a small chip to hear everything."

"That's all I need too – we could do this tonight," Lena said hopefully, her eyes pleading with him. "Frankly, I can't wait to go home."

After a paused, Oliver blinked frustrated, "there will be conditions to this: you wear a com and stay in contact at all times, you bail if I give the order, and you don't do anything . . . stupid."

"Got it. I'll go grab my stuff."

As Lena nodded and left, almost bouncing up the stairs, Oliver felt a hand on his arm. He turned to see Sara standing there. "Is this a good idea?" she asked under her breath.

"We've got to give her a chance," Oliver shrugged, "it's how people learn. But she probably shouldn't go home alone right now . . ."

"I'll go," Roy said, jumping up in interest. He looked eager at something to do, so Oliver nodded in consent and the second kid ran off after his friend. Once he was gone, leaving the adults alone, they all turned to motion in sync – Felicity began working on making the files they'd need in seconds, the morning doing nothing to faze her. Soon, she was halfway done as Sara, Oliver and Diggle poured over plans for the building, determined not to be sidelined although Lena was the one going in.

* * *

At six that night, Lena Smoak entered the Queen's Consolidated building. She looked almost unrecognisable – her hair was tucked under a dark brown wig, contacts of blue colour in her eyes slightly obscured by glasses and a business style suit she'd borrowed from Thea hanging slightly loosely off her body. Her face was made-up with sharp lines and a shade of lipstick similar to blood, and the heels she wore clicked on the floor. As she passed security with a smile, using the cloned I.D Felicity had made her confidently and hearing it beep in confirmation to let her easily in, she headed straight for the nearest glass elevator. If anyone saw her, she looked just like another office working drone.

The elevator music was drab, until a voice said in her ear, "are you in?"

"You know, speaking to myself looks awfully suspicious," Lena informed the team back at the Foundry, "so cram it until I'm out of sight, okay?"

Although there was a huff in answer, nobody spoke again until she reached her destination – a janitor's closet on the thirteenth floor, a few rooms across from Isabel's office. Once she was safely inside with the door closed, Lena snapped into action, pulling off her wig and the rest of her disguise in a second and cramming it into several of the boxes in the room – a mop bucket, a first aid kit, several unopened cardboard boxes. Underneath the clothes she wore her real suit – tight black leggings and a reinforced vest, her heels replaced by pumps, silent on the tiles. Nobody was likely to find her old stuff there unless they were really looking for it and even if they did, a wig and a suit didn't really tell them much. From the bag she carried, she pulled the rest of the equipment she'd need – ropes, tech equipment and a knife, just in case push came to shove.

All of this sorted, she stood on the shelves in the room, climbing upwards until she could reach the ceiling, then pushing the tile there loose, exposing the tunnel above. With upper-arm strength and silent grace, she pulled herself up into the air duct in the ceiling, putting the tile back and leaving no trace that she'd ever been in the janitor's closet. Her old ways were coming back to her instinctively, and she grinned despite being trapped in a tiny metal air vent – she had missed the thrill of being in action.

With that in mind, she monitored in, "I'm in the air vent, just about to sort out the cameras."

"Are you sure you know how to do this?" Felicity asked in her ear, sounding worried. The older sister had been okay with this; initially glad to have a plan – until her little sister had actually gone on the mission. Now Felicity was just worried and picturing every bad scenario that could happen in her head, Oliver's hand on her shoulder the only thing keeping her steady.

"I've only done it thirty thousand times," Lena replied sarcastically, crawling down the tunnel until she found what she was looking for. Cables stretched the whole way through, but the specific one she needed was blue, and connected to the security cameras on that floor; it took her only a few minutes to find it. With a grin, she pulled what she needed from her small bag of technical supplies – a small device with what looked like a crocodile clip on the end. It was homemade and slightly crude, but it had never failed her.

Making a small cut into the blue cable with her knife, she attached the clip into its stream, and her device lit up, showing her the hallway below. A series of options showed up, and she typed in the command she'd programmed to circle in on a specific camera – the one in Isabel's room. Now she was in, she had to create a distraction; Lena crawled back the way she'd came to the opposite end of the corridor, finding a grate there which lead out into the main corridor. From her viewpoint, she pulled another few choice things from her goodie bag, and within seconds of her tinkering and dropping a small poultice onto the scene, the hallway was filling with smoke. Go science.

"The eagle has landed and cleared the building," Lena laughed her report, as people on that floor started running from their room in confusion, shouting about a fire.

"You're a dork," Roy said dryly in the background, as she started crawling back yet again.

Once she was back at her device, she watched the cameras displayed on it until she saw Isabel Rochev leave her office, going out to investigate the smoke. Her distraction working, Lena keyed in a second command, which put the camera on a loop showing the empty room, so that when she then climbed to the vent above Isabel's office, lifting up the ceiling tile before dropping soundlessly down, the guard surveying the footage still saw an empty room. She was invisible; a ghost.

Standing in Isabel's office, Lena moved quickly to the computer and shoved in the USB drive Felicity had rigged up, "is that good?"

"Yep," Felicity answered, as a screen identical to Isabel's appeared on her own computer, slowly cloning it, "just wait until it's a 100% loaded and we'll be able to see everything on there. Have you done the phone yet?"

"On it," Lena replied. She found Isabel's phone on her desk, carelessly left behind, and quickly dug her nails behind it to pull the back off. Inside exposed, she placed the tiny nano-chip her sister had somehow engineered into its hardware, putting the cover back on without a scratch. Isabel would never know she was there, as Lena put the phone back in the same place. But when she looked back at the computer, it was only 70% loaded, and she wasn't sure how long her distraction would keep the other woman away. "Felicity, how long should this computer take to load?"

"Not long," her sister replied. "Why?"

"It's taking it's sweet time at the moment."

"If it's not done yet, get out of there!" Oliver interrupted suddenly, "waiting could cost us everything."

"We need this," Lena argued, "it's 89% done now. Give it a few more seconds."

"I said, get out of there!"

"In a second," the girl said in a sing-song voice, not nervous at all. She was too good for that. While the rest of the team was on edge, Oliver downright fuming back at the Foundry, her heart remained steady. This was a second nature to her.

"Lena-"

"Got it!" she whispered in triumph, as the screen read 100% and she grabbed the USB from its socket, ready to run. Unfortunately, there were voices at that very moment – right outside the door. Isabel was back, and she was trapped. "Oh, shit."

* * *

"Lena!" Oliver shouted, as the line went static on the other end. The last thing they'd heard was a door opening and the girl's cornered mutter of dismay. They had nothing but the com to contact her with, and she was being worryingly silent. "Come on, answer! Lena?"

Silence met his ears, deafening. They had all been standing in front of Felicity's computer, watching as it cloned itself to Isabel's device, but he moved away angrily with his words, slamming a hand on the metal table in rage.

"Calm down, Oliver," Diggle said pacidly. "There's always a way out, she'll be fine."

"I knew this was a bad idea!" Oliver shouted, spit coming from the corner of his mouth as he shouted. He was mad, but when he saw Felicity's face, she was terrified. First, she was in danger because of him; now, he let her sister go into a mission like this? What had he been thinking? "She could be caught, right into the palm of Slade's hands, or being arrested or killed or-"

"Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence," a voice said from the computer coms, and all of their heads turned in relief to Lena's voice. "Thanks, Oliver."

"What happened?" he demanded, "are you out?"

"Chill, I'm in the vents," she replied, and if they all strained, they could hear her knees hitting the metal surface as she crawled. She sounded fine, not even breathless, and joking, "I almost got caught, but I'm too quick for the wicked witch to catch me."

Felicity's jaw dropped, "Isabel _came in_?"

"She didn't see me. We're good. I'm just collecting my stuff from inside now," Lena said, stopping by her camera device and detaching it, replacing the cut wire with tape. Then, she began to crawl her way back to the janitor's closet. "I'll be out in five, but I'm going dark now. Relax guys, we did it."

With a final laugh, her transmission cut off, and everyone looked around at each other.

"Is that kid even real?" Diggle eventually laughed, half from relief, half from astonishment. His laugh was quickly joined by the others.

"Did it work?" Sara asked eventually, looking to the older sister. Felicity turned on her chair and started tapping at keys, making the desktop change.

"It worked, but I'm not seeing anything significant in her recent files – wait!" Felicity cried excitedly, pulling up what looked like a banking receipt, "Isabel bought a plane ticket to somewhere in Russia eight days ago."

"Single or return?"

"Single – but she obviously wasn't on that flight," Felicity said, almost smiling, "which means-"

"Slade got away," Oliver said dejectedly. He leant against the table, shoulders slumped and one hand pressing on the edge. Although he looked tired, he also tried to look pleased at the development – but couldn't quite manage it. Even if it meant they were safe for now, he never doubted for a second that Slade would just let them get away. No, he'd be back.

"It means that we're safe," Felicity corrected, and her wide smile was almost enough to wipe away his fears. _Almost._ "I can go home!"

With a grin, and running on victory, Felicity jumped to her feet and hugged Sara, the two blonde girls laughing as they embraced. Diggle chuckled appreciatively, while Roy smiled tightly at them all, still feeling on the edge, leaving to meet Lena outside from when she got there, much closer with the girl his own age. The two had become firm friends, often teaming up against the adults on the team, and it hadn't gone unnoticed. By the time Felicity got to Oliver, who was still looking slightly put out, her cheeks were flushed with pride, and she hugged him without thinking twice.

"Cheer up," Felicity advised him with a whisper, her lips brushing his ear. When she leaned back, a hand still on his arm, she tried to smile extra-bright for him, "I know this isn't over for good – but peace is peace, right? Take the victory."

And they did just that.

* * *

**A/N: **_thanks for all the advice following the last chapter. I was really unsure where this was going, but now I know sort of what people would like to see - I've come up with a cunning plan (please someone get this reference haha). But also please review with anything you'd like to see happen between the characters or whatever. Just so you know, I've just finished the big olicity-is-canon chapter which I hope you'll all like! I'm starting to get excited about this story again, as in two chapters I get to write Hal/Lena/Barry moments, which is really fun just for the pure sass. Anyway, please review!_**  
**


	18. Light under closed doors

**'Light under closed doors'**

Oliver made the girls stay an extra night at his house 'just to be safe'. But the night after breaking in to QC, Lena Smoak walked into the apartment she'd only been crashing in for two months but considered already to be her home and grinned, spreading her arms wide.

"Honey, I'm home!"

"You know there's no one in there, right?" Felicity said sceptically, walking in behind her sister with a duffel bag of their stuff and a frown to hide her smile. She liked her sister being comfortable here; it made her apartment feel warmer. It made _her_ feel warmer.

"That," Lena turned and pointed a finger at her sister with a smirk, "is not the point. We're home."

Rolling her eyes, Felicity waited until her back was turned before smiling. "Dork. Go and make some coffee while I sort through all this stuff."

"Yes, ma'am."

Felicity was smiling as she walked into room, looking around the familiar walls with a breath of relief. It had been nice staying at the Queen's, although dodging Moira had been somewhat problematic. But evenings eating takeout with Oliver, her sister and Thea on the couch was a memory she would cherish in years to come. For the first time in years, Felicity felt like she had a family and it was growing. She had an inkling that Lena felt the same as well, as her sister had taken to calling Sara 'auntie Sara' in a sarcastic tone during their training sessions, which she was excelling in; between Black Canary's combat lessons and Oliver teaching her archery, Felicity had a sneaking suspicion that given a few months, her little sister would be kicking all of their asses.

"Hey," Oliver said as he followed the two sisters into the apartment, walking right through the open door. As he looked around, Lena poked her head from the kitchen and Felicity walked out from her bedroom, looking at him curiously.

"Oliver? You know we just left your place, right? Like literally ten minutes ago, all we've done is drive here. I appreciate it if you were worried but the only danger we were in was the traffic – it was murder. Just not ours." Felicity said, slightly babbling as he just looked back at her with the patient little smile he always did. Unable to stop herself, her mouth kept running and left her mind a mile behind. "And turning up every five minutes is a little stalkery – not that you're a – what are you doing here?"

"Smooth," Lena commented dryly from the kitchen, laughing to herself, and her sister resisted the urge to throw something at her with a tight lipped smile.

"I actually have something for you," Oliver said, shouting out to the younger girl, who instantly came out of the other room with an eager smile on her face. Lena stopped next to her sister to look at him with an interested smile, looking for answers. Oliver held up a bag in his hand in response, "Thea said that although a lot of your shopping from that night Slade attacked you got recovered by the police."

". . . Right. I got it back like a month ago."

"But she bought you something extra – a gift," Oliver clarified with a smile, handing her the bag. With a suspicious look Lena looked in it before pulling out a long, blue dress with a look of fear and uncertainty. She looked touched, but also balked.

"I- can't accept this, this is gorgeous," the younger girl stammered looking up at him.

Oliver held up his hands, "she wanted to thank you for saving her life – and she's planning a party to celebrate her recovery and I'm under strict instructions to invite you on the condition that you wear _that_ and not the same old pair of jeans you usually do. Her words, not mine."

"A party?" Lena lifted her eyebrows, "is that a good idea? Sounds like a target to me."

"Slade's gone, and your sister was right the other day," Oliver told her, sharing a proud smile with Felicity, "we've got to live our lives without being afraid of him all the time. I think a party sounds like a bit of fun we all deserve – everyone's coming."

"Okay. Tell Thea I said thanks," Lena agreed. She looked down at the fabric in her hands with a small smile before nodding back up to Oliver, excusing herself as the kettle boiled in the kitchen to finish making coffee.

"I'll be off then, I'm sure you're both sick of my face by now," Oliver joked, turning to leave.

"Oliver," Felicity called after him, and he looked back to see her watching him warmly. She took a few steps closer to him and stopped, speaking more quietly, "I never get tired of seeing you. It was really nice for us all to spend some time together - thank you for giving us a place to stay. Honestly," Felicity glanced towards the kitchen, seeing her sister preoccupied, and said quietly to her friend. "I think she's starting to see you guys as family, and I'm happy for that. You guys are good for her. Thank you."

She leaned forward and placed her lips on his cheek briefly in gratitude, leaning back with a twitch of her lips. Oliver left their place that day with a spring in his step, feeling better than he had in weeks.

* * *

That night, Felicity fell asleep quickly and easily, relieved to be back in the safety of her own home and nestled in her blue covers. While she slept on, however, he sister crept out into their small apartment. Sitting on the couch, Lena pulled her shotgun from its hiding place beneath it, trusty and familiar in her grip. As quietly as she could, she filled it with bullets and pumped the handle once, lifting it to her eye to check the sight; now she was satisfied, she walked over to the door and sat against the wall facing it, the yellow light from the corridor outside the only thing illuminating her, just a crack. She sat on the carpet, knees tucked up and shotgun pointed towards the door should anyone barge in to hurt them, and waited, the tiny sentry.

The truth was, it had been two months and although the bruises were long gone, she could still feel the marks around her throat from Slade Wilson's vice-like grip. And the way the others had spoken about him . . . he must be powerful, and terrifying.

Lena didn't think she'd ever seen Oliver as scared as when he'd come rushing into the hospital looking for Thea that night, and just the mention of Slade's name as she'd delivered his message had told her everything. Oliver feared Slade, who was now apparently trying to kill her sister, if the assassination attempt a week ago at their mother's grave was anything to go by. She wasn't about to let that happen: she had Felicity were finally starting to be a family again, and no way was some jumped-up psycho in a stupid mask about to take that away. So she sat with her gun and waited, ready to shoot anyone who tried to hurt her family – protect them, by any means. That had been her strategy with her mother, and nothing had changed since. Lena didn't care what that made her, but there was nothing she wouldn't do to keep her sister safe.

It was a few hours later than that, in the real dead of night, when a shadow had crossed over their porch. Although her eyes burned for sleep, she had forced herself to stay alert, and jerked up at the sudden change, hands tightening on the trigger. Then the shadow moved away, but for a further five minutes after that there was noise and shuffling right outside the door, like there was someone waiting right outside. Too calmly, Lena got to her feet; gun levelled, and approached the door. At it, she paused and listened hard, but could hear nothing. Putting her hand on the door handle, she readied herself – then opened the door wide.

The first thing she saw was a gun.

Then, as her finger tightened a fraction on the trigger levelled directly at the chest of whoever it was, too blind in her anger to see straight, the gun was lifted up and away in peace, and she became aware of someone saying her name. Forcing herself to be calm, the tunnel vision peeled away until she saw the man's face – Diggle.

Breathing a sigh of relief and lowering her own rifle, she leaned against the wall in the corridor and closed her eyes. That could have gone very badly for Diggle: usually she shot before she looked, especially when she was protecting someone so important to her. They stood on opposite sides of the narrow but brightly lit corridor now, both looking a little startled and relieved. Once she had calmed, Lena stood back up, gun still pointed at the black and red carpet, just as Diggle looked at her in amusement.

"It's nice to know your sister's got so many people looking out for her," he said kindly.

"Feelings mutual. Oliver send you?"

"I planned on coming anyway," Diggle shrugged, "Felicity's my best friend. Your sister is important to all of us."

Lena blew her hair out of her eyes, "yeah, I'm getting that."

"And what about you? Planning on taking out Slade with a shotgun?"

"I just – I couldn't sleep after everything. I wanted us to be safe, and after the way you guys have spoken about Slade for the past few weeks . . . it's enough to make a girl paranoid. I know it'd probably be useless, but I could buy Felicity a little time if I caught anyone trying to get in."

"And what about you?"

"I shoot until something stops me." Lena half-grinned, "well, if we're both staying up on guard duty, we might as well do it together. Coffee?"

"Sounds great," Diggle agreed.

"Is there anyone else lurking around here who might want a drink?"

"Nope, just me."

Five minutes later, Lena and Diggle were sitting companionably on the floor in the corridor outside of Felicity's apartment. They left the door slightly open so they could see and hear inside if anything happened, their guns on their laps as they leaned against the plain white wall, the old carpet hard to sit on. It was bright enough in the corridor that they could imagine it wasn't three in the morning, and they sipped their drinks in silence for a while. Diggle kept shooting incredulous looks at the teenager, in awe of her dedication to protecting her sister even if she was grossly unprepared to do so.

"You can go to sleep, you know, now that you know I'm here so you're safe," he offered after a while, putting his mug down on the carpet. Lena's shoulder touched his own as she shrugged.

"Nah. Sleeping is so overrated."

"I'm sorry we all scared you," he said, "I know we went overboard with how dangerous Slade is. I'll try and remind Oliver to tone it down a bit in the future."

"Why? It's better to know and be prepared," Lena said frankly, "and I'm not afraid. Really, the worst he can do is kill me, but I'd give her a head start before he did. I just want to be prepared."

"Even if it's just with a shotgun."

"Even if it's just with a shotgun," Lena echoed with a grin, "a plan is a plan, no matter how shoddy. I'd rather have a shotgun than nothing."

"That gun does look a state though," Diggle pointed out, looking at her weapon in disdain. It was battered and bashed up, scraped all down the barrel and looking in a general state of needing repair. As he spoke, Lena gasped, pulling her gun to her chest as if it were a baby and looking offended.

"Hey! I love this gun, I've had it for years," she protested, before looking at the shotgun and adding in a whisper, "he didn't mean it, baby."

Diggle chuckled at her nickname for the gun, throwing his head back in a laugh. When he looked back at her, she was shaking her head. He made a decision, sitting up straighter as he spoke now. "You know, with Oliver and Sara training you up to join the team, I'm starting to feel a little left out. I'm not as qualified as they are, but I've got a few skills – how'd you like it if I taught you how to fire a higher quality gun? I can't believe I'm saying this to a kid, but I'm a pretty decent sniper if you ever want to learn. I mean, you don't have to, but-"

"No, I'd love that," Lena said, turning to him excitedly. She looked like she couldn't believe it either, but her smile was like her sisters, and he realized he was there to protect her, too. He had been unsure of the younger sister at first, not liking the bite to her every word, but she had softened considerably to all of them in the past two months, and he didn't want to see either sister hurt now. He wanted to know her better. When she smiled at him brightly, he returned the affection. "When can we start? Wow, I'm not coming across as over-eager at all."

"Whenever you like. How about I take you out somewhere to practise for a day every weekend?"

"Awesome," Lena said, leaning back against the wall. "Then, at least when I shoot pointlessly at Slade's super-powered army, It'll be with a slightly better gun."

"It's going to be okay." Diggle told her suddenly, seeing through her attempts at jokes. She looked down, caught, as he went on. "None of us are going to let anything happen to you or Felicity. You're our team now. That's basically family."

"I know," Lena nodded, but didn't look like she believed it, until she leaned on his shoulder and looked up at him with a teasing voice, "uncle Diggle."

He had to laugh at that.

* * *

Felicity was getting tired of a few things. She was getting tired of being in fear of her life, of being shot at and targeted, and mostly she was tired of not being able to do anything about it. Oliver always claimed that she had to stay safe at the Foundry because she couldn't fight – she wanted to change that. She saw them, strong and brave and confident; she wanted to be like that. Like _them_. She wanted to be able to break the nose of any dirtbag who threatened her and not have to be rescued.

But she also knew that it was no easy task – it would take time, and a patient instructor. She had been thinking about it for a few days since they'd been home, going into autopilot. Things were still quiet in Slade's absence, and it was becoming really odd for them all to gather in Verdant ready to fight something – but there was no one left to fight. Oliver and Sara had taken to really trying to whip Lena and Roy into shape, taking out the energy they normally used fighting bad guys on the two teenagers, who looked half-dead with exhaustion by the end of the week. But they also loved it, she knew, as Lena would chatter about techniques and how much she enjoyed the archery lessons near constantly.

Her sister looked tired beyond belief by that Saturday, as they sat at the tiny table in Felicity's kitchen for breakfast. Although the older sister had eaten breakfast as a routine every day for years, Lena was much less conditioned to do so; back home, she'd either been too busy to eat or there had been little in the cupboard anyway, so it was new to her to have to sit down with her sister and eat every morning. As it was that day, Felicity was eating cereal and toast, whereas the younger girl picked at some cereal meagrely, taking a few bites before she was distracted by reading the paper.

"Eat your breakfast," Felicity told her half-heartedly, not really used to being in charge. She had noticed her sister's strange eating habits, and was slowly trying to get her to look healthier; it was working. Over the past two months Lena's frame had begun to fill out, both from having more consistent meals and from the muscle she was gaining from fighting. She looked a lot better than she had done when she arrived, even the glow in her face shone more.

"Sorry," Lena mumbled, throwing the paper down with a sigh. "I'm so getting bored – seriously, it's like all crime in this city has just stopped."

"Most people would see that as a good thing."

"It is, and I know when things go bad again I'll be wishing it was now again, but I want something to do," Lena explained. But she did take a few more spoonfuls of cereal.

"Aren't you going out with Diggle today?" Felicity reminded her with a little shake of her head.

"Oh shit, right!" Lena jumped to her feet, not believing she'd forgotten. She was genuinely excited, although she knew going to practise long-distance shooting in a field outside of the city with Diggle was hardly glamorous. She made for the door, and was almost out of the room to get ready when she heard her sister's voice behind her.

"Finish your breakfast - sit!" Felicity shouted. At the sharp upturn of her eyebrows, Lena sensed there was no point arguing, so rolled her eyes and scrambled back into the chair she was sitting in and began scooping cereal into her mouth in quick succession. Felicity was just about to tell her to slow down otherwise she'd choke when she realized something.

Felicity wanted to learn to fight, but didn't know how to ask the others – but there was a good enough teacher sitting across the breakfast table. Seizing the opportunity, she asked, "Lena, can I ask you something?"

"Of course - as long as it isn't 'can you do the dishes?'"

"It's just I was thinking – I uh, I've always been a liability to the team because I'm the only one who can't fight. I mean I can't go on missions, I can't fight off anyone who attacks me . . . I'm pretty much useless on that front. I want to learn."

Lena looked up sharply at her words, pausing mid-chew. Swallowing it too quickly, she choked momentarily and coughed before re-focusing on her sister. The words that came out of her mouth, however, were not at all what Felicity expected. "How can you think you're useless? If anything, the team would fall apart without you. I mean, imagine Roy trying to use a computer if you weren't there – he'd blow up the Foundry in five minutes flat."

"I just feel like I need to know this too," Felicity pleaded, "everyone else can fight but me."

"Oh no, don't get me wrong, of course I'll help you," Lena said, deciding it easily, "but the others would probably be better equipped to teach."

"I only want to know how to defend myself. You'll do."

"Gee, thanks," Lena said sarcastically, finishing the last few dregs of her cereal and getting to her feet. She threw the bowl in the washing-up pile, but went back to her sister before she left the room. Standing there, she looked at her sister seriously; an emotion rare in the young girl, and Felicity noticed it immediately, paying attention as she began to speak. "Fee, don't ever feel useless again, okay? You are the furthest from useless. The cops and idiots in charge who do nothing for this city are useless – you save it. You're a hero just as much as Oliver; you've got to know that. I wish I was like you. Just don't feel that way, you deserve more. Christ, Fee – you can stop evil douchebags with a computer tablet and nothing else! Who else can do that? You're our . . . you're our IT _warrior_."

Felicity was almost stunned to silence as her sister squeezed her arm lightly before turning to leave. Someone believed in her, maybe that was enough. When Lena had first come back, Felicity had thought her sister would never look at her again with anything but hate in her eyes; now here she was telling her she was worthy with nothing but faith in her gaze. That was huge. Felicity almost shut down, hardly registering the fact that her wish to be trained had been granted, before she gathered herself and called out.

"Hey," she called, and Lena paused in the door. Tilting her head, Felicity smiled at her, trying to communicate her gratitude in that gaze, "maybe I can teach you how to hack in return?"

"I thought you didn't like the word 'hack'?"

"Okay, maybe I can teach you how to illegally break into computers and government servers in return," Felicity amended, and Lena grinned back a final time.

"Sounds like a plan. Plus this way, if this whole 'Arrow' business goes sour – we'd make one hell of a team of master-thieves."

* * *

Three days later, Lena walked into the Foundry late at night and took in the sight. Her sister was, as always, at the computer; Sara casually sitting beside her, and Oliver was on some piece of equipment, swinging himself up with a pole, like a ladder. It was odd, and as she looked sweat dripped down his bare chest from the effort of it. Walking over to Felicity, who was trying not to stare at Oliver as he worked out, Lena smirked and said loudly. "Now I know why you like working here so much."

"Shut up," Felicity hissed, and Sara laughed.

"I can hear you!" Oliver shouted over.

Lena grinned back, "I know!"

Suddenly, the computer in the Foundry beeped, making Felicity jumped before she turned to it and checked the message. It was one of her ongoing searches across every database in the United States, and she gasped when she read the report.

"What is it?" Oliver appeared at her side and asked quickly, hearing her shocked breath. He was panting, and held the salmon ladder pole in his hands.

"Um, one of the things I'd flagged got a hit – the assassin who came for us showed up in the ARGUS recent reports."

He pressed, "And?"

"And he's dead," Felicity answered. She didn't know whether to be relieved or shocked, staring at the screen blankly. "ARGUS found his body last night; they reckon he was killed by another assassin – with a sword."

"Do you think it could be Slade?" Sara asked, leaning over to see. Of all of them, only Lena didn't rush forwards to look, but they were all too busy to notice that.

"I don't know," Oliver replied. He didn't know what to think at all. "Maybe Diggle could talk to his contacts there; see if we can see the body."

"What's the point?" Lena asked nonchalantly, "the guy tried to kill you guys but now he's out of the way. I'd call that a result. Sometimes things happen and they've got nothing to do with anything, it's just out good luck – why question it?"

"We need to know what happened. This is definitely not normal."

Lena only shrugged, walking over to take the pole off Oliver and twisting it thoughtfully in her hands. It was an elegant movement, as it flashed and spun like a baton before she grinned up at him, "can I try this?"

"Sure, although I doubt you'll be able to make it more than a few rungs up without practise," he replied, looking at Sara with a frown as he knew she too used the Salmon Ladder on occasion, "what do you think?"

"Mhhnn," Sara agreed with a casual nod, "be careful, I accidentally dislocated my shoulder using that thing once – swung up too hard and locked my arms oddly. Let me help you." The two walked off to the training equipment, but Oliver only watched them out of the corner of his eye, his gaze drawn to Felicity instead. She was still sitting in front of the computer and reading the report, looking a little confused as she bit her lip. He walked over to her instead, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry, he can't try to hurt us again," he said soothingly. Then he gave her a rueful smile, lips just curving up, "maybe your sister's right and this actually works in our favour. What was it you said to me the other week? 'Take the victory' – let's do that again."

Felicity nodded, but still looked uncertain, "whoever did this must have been good, to get one-up on an assassin. What if it's someone worse?"

"Then we'll beat them, too," Oliver said, not wanting her to be scared. "We always do. Come on, let's go laugh at them try and do this – the first time is always funny."

He offered her a grin and a hand, which Felicity took. They walked over to their friends and wondered what could possibly come next which was worse than anything they had faced before.

* * *

**A/N: _happy birthday stephen amell! Our perfect Oliver Queen and general sunshine man._** _Okay so now for the real stuff - this fic is officially expanding out into the dc universe; I've said it before and I'll say it again. But I had one reviewer call me "low" for mentioning that I'm writing in Hal Jordan as a character after the last chapter and basically for writing the story I wanted to, even if it goes further than the arrow universe, which was not only extremely rudely phrased but incredible off-putting and really not something which encourages me to write. sorry if I seem grumpy, but it really does knock your confidence. So if you don't want to read anymore, stop now, because Barry's coming back in 6 chapters and the rest of the league not long after that. sorry again, most of you have been lovely! if you have positivity to send this way I'm all for it this week, because my AS exams are next week and I'm terrified and anything to cheer me up is welcome._**  
**


	19. Stepping up

** 'Stepping up'**

"Move your back foot in a bit," Sara said loudly and critically, nose turning up in a wince. She was in the Foundry, watching Lena try to spar with Diggle. The man was majorly dominating the fight, because Lena kept falling into bad habits – this being one of them, "You keep doing it and it leaves you wide open to get knocked on your ass."

"I'm trying," Lena replied through gritted teeth. Sweat was gathered on her forehead and sticking to her sides, despite her only wearing a sports top and shorts; her face screwed up in conversation as she dashed forwards again, trying to perfect the move Sara had been trying to teach her – how to throw someone to the floor by using their own weight to their disadvantage. It had been going okay, but the subconscious tick was going to get her hurt, and Sara had called her out on her footwork four times already. It was grating.

"Well, correct yourself," Sara snapped from where she watched. "Getting angry isn't going to help, fixing the issue is."

"I was about to!" Lena said back irritably, tone terse, but pushed her foot inwards all the same.

"Try again."

With a sigh, the younger girl turned back to Diggle, who was waiting for them to stop bickering. He'd offered to help out, even if it meant taking a slight beating, but was trying to refrain from laughing at their dumb arguments so far. It was familiar and familial; it only made him think what they were becoming. John Diggle had thought of Oliver and Felicity as family for a long time. He had never really had anyone since the war, but they had managed to turn his life around through nights spent down there, doing something important. Most of his old friends from the war suffered now, but he coped because of this, and them. He still had a cause; something to fight for. It saved him. Now, his family was only growing, to Roy and Sara, and now Felicity's sister. Between them, they added up to a lot of people who had no one – so they clung to each other. He didn't know what he'd do without them.

"Try to relax," he said quietly to the younger girl, thinking about this. It might make him laugh, but he didn't want to see them really fight, not now.

His tone, as always, was a calming influence on Lena. Diggle was good at many things, cooling rages one of them; she'd seen him turn Oliver from murderous to downright serene with only words. It apparently worked on her, too, for Lena's boiling blood cooled, her mind clearing, as they circled again, waiting for her moment. When she moved this time, it was quick and decisive.

Striking out first with her left elbow, driving it into his face and sending it clicking backwards, followed by stalking after him as he fell, but Diggle recovered and hit back when she was close enough. Ducking his first punch by literally scooting under his arm, quick as lightning, Lena grabbed his moving arm and twisted it around his back; from there, it was easy to manipulate what Sara had been teaching, using the arm which was now under her control to force him to move before kicking his feet from under him, using her own strength to flip Diggle's form in the air. He ended up face down on the floor, with one of Lena's knees in his ribs and his hands behind his back, but Diggle smiled through it, proud. She'd done well.

As Lena let him up, flashing a nervous but apologetic smile as she offered a hand, hauling him up with ease despite their obvious difference in muscle mass. Diggle opened his mouth to congratulate her when they were interrupted.

"You did it again," Sara commented, looking non-plussed with the achievement of the other girl.

Lena frowned, "what?"

"Your footing went completely back to how it was before as soon as you stepped forwards," Sara criticised. She hated having to say it, but it was for the younger girl's own good; getting into bad fighting habits now would only make things harder for her later. "Try again."

For a moment, both adults thought Lena would argue back at the command. Her jaw tensed briefly, and although her eyes flash angrily for a second she held still for a few seconds, taking a shallow breath to keep herself in check before turning back to face Diggle without a nod or word. The lack of her usual smile showed her frustration, but the fact she did as asked anyway said a lot about how far she had come.

It took another hour, but by the time they finished that day, Lena had mastered the complex move, her combat skills improving by the day. She had gone upstairs to the club to change, exhausted, just pulling on an unflattering grey hoodie and jeans before heading out. She had just walked back into the empty bar, intending on cutting through to get out as she planned on meeting with Roy and Thea for dinner, when she saw on the bar a single drink. Smiling, she ran over and downed the shot in a breath, knowing it was Sara's way of saying sorry. It didn't matter, she hadn't been really mad anyway: Lena was just frustrated with herself. Still, she was grateful, and was out and running across town via the rooftops in minutes.

* * *

Roy was sitting in a sushi bar alone and waiting for his friends to show up. It had been Lena's idea for them all to go out: her, him, Thea and Sin, after hearing yet another one of his stories about trying to get Thea to forgive him. Lena had given him advice just like she did the first time they'd ever met, and told him to try just being friends with Thea for now; to let it grow slowly. The point she'd made had been that even if he and Thea never got back together, he could still see her – and all of them going out for dinner with Sin and her for buffers had seemed like a perfect starting place.

Roy had been all for the idea. He liked the company of each of the girl's individually, so had no reason to disagree with the idea of them all hanging out – until none of them showed up. He'd been sitting for twenty minutes at a table by himself, the servers giving him looks that made him want to punch them, and was just texting Lena for the fifteenth time when Thea breezed in. At her entrance, his head snapped up on instinct, as she glanced around, finally spotting him and heading over.

When she dropped her bag on the table Thea looked breathless, and squinted at him confusedly as she pulled up a chair opposite and sat down. "Where's Lena?"

"Running late, as usual," he sighed, "Sin?"

"Had to cancel, she said something about a friend and a shotgun – I didn't ask," Thea shook her head, and he laughed at her expression and the situation. It sounded like just the sort of trouble Sin would get into, but he wasn't worried about her, knowing she'd have called if it were serious. The girl opposite him quirked up her lip, jerking her head towards the counter, "Should we wait?"

"No way – I'm starving."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Thea grinned, getting happily to her feet. She was hungry too, so they went to the counter and grabbed bowl of the food spinning around on the counter before sitting back down. Oddly, it wasn't until they had sat back down and started picking at their food that she realized this should be awkward. It was too much like a date, and she found herself wishing Lena would hurry up and get there. But when Roy looked like he was fighting his plate with chopsticks, eyeing the food sitting in the bowl suspiciously as it was, that all fell away, and she found herself covering her mouth to try and stop laughing with easy glee. Once she'd giggled, she asked, "First time eating sushi?"

Roy looked up sheepishly, "is it that obvious?"

"Just a little. Do you even know what you're eating?"

"Not a clue," he admitted, "but I can't even pick it up, let alone eat it."

"There are forks at the counter too, you know," Thea pointed out with a smirk. She was eating her own sushi wraps with ease, grinning the entire time at his failure. Taking a deliberate bite of her food in front of him, Roy scowled back, trying in vain to scoop up his own food.

"That would be admitting defeat," Roy said. At that moment, he was trying to balance some sort of fish on his chopstick, and had got it almost to his mouth when it fell back to the bowl with a loud splat. He sighed.

Then, with deliberate actions, he picked up the sushi with his bare hands and shoved it in his mouth smugly. With a grin, he leaned forward on the table and chomped purposefully in Thea's face, who was trying to hide her amusement – until the taste hit the back of his mouth and he gagged, eyes bulging out as he quickly swallowed the vile thing, coughing as soon as he was done. It was only as he reached for his drink and tipped it all down his throat that he realized peals of laughter rang through his ears, and he looked up to find Thea laughing out loud, oblivious to the looks they were getting from the other diners nearby, head thrown back. She looked beautiful. He hadn't seen her laugh like that in weeks.

When she was finally done laughing at his expression, wiping a tear from her eye as she leaned forwards again, he shook his head. He looked at her and put on an expression of pure disgust, saying loudly, "that was the most vile thing I've ever put in my mouth."

"Shhhh, they'll hear you!" Thea whispered eyes going wide as she looked around. A man in a suit was standing at the kitchen door, probably the manager, and was glaring at the scene they had caused with their laughter, several of the people around them whispering furiously.

Roy, never one to be intimidated, lifted his glass to the man with a smug smile, before looking at Thea pleadingly, "can we please get out of here and get some real food?"

Once they'd paid their bill, they were walking outside when Thea loudly commented, "I think we've been set up."

"What do you mean?"

"Sin _and_ Lena not showing up? Yeah, right."

"I had nothing to do with it," Roy said quickly. The last thing he needed was for her to think he'd organised all of this, "really, I didn't."

"I didn't say you did, calm down," Thea laughed easily, "in fact, I think it was the two of them. Don't worry, I'm not mad." She looked at him through the side of her eyes, "I missed you."

Roy nodded sadly, "I missed you too."

"I don't like not hanging out with you, Roy," she admitted, putting her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket as they strolled. She was dressed more casually than she did at the club, dress exchanged for jeans and her jacket, heels for a pair of boots. "And I'm not ready to be with you again, but I want to be friends. Do you think that would be . . . okay?"

"That'd be great," Roy sighed in relief. He tried to act casual, although his heart was skipping giddily, offering her his arm with a smile, "So, I know a place we can go right now. Mexican food, cheesy atmosphere – me and Lena found it. And you this thing called a 'hatcho' right – which is one of those dumb huge hats like they used to get in cartoons, but they fill the edge with nachos. It's enormous. And it's on me if you're up for it?"

He was jumbling up his words, tough facade momentarily broken in his attempts to convince her he was genuine. But Thea only smiled and took his arm, linking their together as he led them through the city. After a few minutes walking, she looked at him sideways and asked, "So you and Lena found this place? Do you hang out often?"

"It's not like that," he said quickly, for some reason feeling the need to explain himself. "We're just friends. Good friends, actually."

"I'm glad, you idiot," Thea rolled her eyes at his assumptions. "I'm glad you guys are friends – you always needed somebody to balance you, and she seemed so lonely when I met her. I hope you look after each other."

He nodded, "we do."

"And you're coming to my party tomorrow right?" Thea asked, eyes lighting up in excitement. Her pace took a skip to it which made him smile as he nodded, to her joy. "Good. I just really want everyone to be there, you know? After everything that happened, I wanted to do something to celebrate being alive with the people who make my life worth living. It's probably stupid to throw a party after being attacked by a maniac, but it just felt right."

"It's not stupid," Roy told her, voice gentle. His eyes hadn't left her in minutes. "You're brave."

"All I did was get thrown about by Slade Wilson," Thea said bitterly.

"But by throwing this party, you're being brave by refusing to give in and be a victim."

She looked up suddenly at that, smiling a little with affection. She wanted to say something different, but her words were casual, "you're going to get a tux, right? That red hoodie of yours is strictly off the dress code."

He laughed at that, "don't worry. I can dress up smart if I want to."

"I look forward to seeing it."

"This is the place," Roy said suddenly, pulling them to a stop. It was a welcome distraction, as he couldn't stop looking at her. The Mexican place looked warm and inviting, and beside him, Thea grinned at its silly front and the music playing from it. "Ready?"

"For a hat of nachos?" Thea laughed mockingly, "As I'll ever be."

They were both laughing as they vanished inside.

* * *

Oliver and Felicity were likewise occupied, but they'd gone out in pursuit of good, simple pizza. At first, they had just been wandering from the Courthouse, their lawyers having finally made a breakthrough on the ownership of Queen's Consolidated and re-scheduling the meeting form months before. This time, Oliver had shown up. It had been a few hours of tiresome talking and having to sit opposite Isabel Rochev without hitting her, but he'd managed to sit through it in relative normality, and a lot had been accomplished. Several parts of QC land, including the club, had been given to Oliver to stop him from taking further action, and he'd taken the deal. He might not be getting his company back, but he'd saved the important places, the ones they needed. He could find other work; it didn't matter to him anymore. Slade had poisoned Queen's Consolidated like he did everything else, and Oliver didn't want it back; all he wanted as he left the courthouse was food, and his stomach grumbled loudly, alerting Felicity to the fact.

"Come on, I'll buy us some food, you've earned it," she laughed. She was proud of him for showing up this time, so wanted to do something to say thank you. "What do you want?"

Oliver made a face as they walked away from the Courthouse. He had originally planned on just calling Diggle for a lift, but he perked up at the offer of food, and they started walking in the general direction of the centre of the city, where most of the shops and restaurants were. After a pause, he announced, "Pizza. And I know just the place."

He had just taken Felicity's hand and started leading them in the direction of a pizza parlour he knew when she pulled away, shaking her head. "Oh no, if we go to someplace _you_ like we'll be eating tiny posh pizza's for like a hundred dollars per bite, no way we are doing that tonight!" she laughed. "I want real food, not fancy food. Not that I'm saying you're stuck up of course, just your food is – I know what sort of places you usually go to, and that's not food, it barely even counts as a snack. I know a place too - and the pizza's a darn-sight better."

Since her sister had come back, Felicity had started slipping into adorable colloquial phrases, accent falling away on occasions, this one of them. Whenever she did it, it was usually garbled and said fast, and it made Oliver's heart swell. So he only shook his head and grinned as she started marching in the opposite direction, following her, as he always seemed to be doing in the past few weeks.

When they got there, the walk comfortable and easy, he found out Felicity's 'pizza place' was in fact a tiny, tiny takeaway shop in one of the backstreets of the city, the few metal tables it had already full. Felicity was at the counter when he caught up, feeling completely out of place in his court suit, way too overdressed in the drab yellow interior; but it was warm, the heat from the counter hitting him as he stood beside her, only vaguely aware of what he had ordered. Their pizza's came literally minutes afterwards, no waiting involved, and small boxes were pressed into Felicity's hands with a smile from the owner.

"Shall we eat outside?" she asked, and he nodded. The two headed outside the shop, walking for a few minutes before they came across a closed cafe, but there were still tables and chairs outside, so they sat on them. The table was small, made of black metal like the chairs, and there were only the streetlights for them to see by, the cafe shut up and locked down for the night. Felicity was unfazed, passing Oliver his pizza box. The outdoors was not a problem for him either after the island, and he had to admit there was something to be enjoyed at the silence of the street and just the two of them.

"Are you going to eat, or just stare blankly around?" Felicity asked with a light laugh, drawing Oliver back to the world, and he realized he'd been staring. She looked nice, hair down for once, making the entire lines of her face softer, especially in this light.

"Of course, sorry," he said mutely, opening the warm box at his fingertips. Inside was a regular sized pizza, which smelt like heaven and looked even better if it were possible. It was gooey and cheesy, and it dripped down his chin when he took a huge bite, making a noise of content afterwards. At his noise, Felicity looked up amusedly, and he congratulated her, "you were right – this is so much better than my place."

Felicity smiled, "I usually am."

"Remind me to listen to you more often."

"I've tried – you never listen," she said, nodding as she ate her own pizza with considerably more grace than he did. By the time he was done, there were yellow stains all down his chin, but Oliver for once was grinning like he hadn't in months. She shook her head, laughing, "You've got cheese all over you."

"Have I?" Oliver asked, not seeming to care in the slightest. He wiped it away with the back of his hand before looking back up at her with a giant, toothy smile. "All gone?"

"Yes – what's up with you?"

"I'm happy, that's all," Oliver shrugged. "What's wrong with that?"

"You're never happy; 'brooding' is your predominant emotion," Felicity told him.

"Well, why shouldn't I be happy?" he asked it return, reclining back on the black chair comfortably. There was no reason to move, and it was pleasant enough out for them not to be in a rush, so he was content to sit and enjoy the view. "I've got good pizza and even better company, and it's a nice night to be out. And it's safe! A month ago we couldn't have come out like this, not with Slade in the city. I missed being able to just walk around Starling and be _safe_."

Felicity smiled at his words, mouth twitching up at the sides, although she didn't speak right away. Their empty pizza boxes lay between them, and she looked at him with adoration. A happy Oliver was a rare thing, the mask truly coming off and a man who laughed easily coming free. He was like that now, and she realized she had missed it. The past few months had left them little to smile about.

"I'm happy that you're happy," she told him, meaning it. "It's nice to see you smile again."

"It's good to be smiling again," Oliver said back, "and you always seem to inspire that quality in me."

Not quite knowing how to respond to that, or the way the light made his eyes appear soft as they looked at her, Felicity awkwardly got to her feet with a quick smile. She smoothed down her dress before she looked at him, not meeting his eyes. "I'm going to go get some more pizzas; we can take them for the others. We should go to the Foundry, check in."

With the words said hurriedly, Felicity was walking away, dress swishing. From his seat, Oliver inwardly groaned. The words were badly chosen and it wasn't the right time to be saying them, or thinking them, or looking at Felicity like that. He wanted to tell her. Slamming a fist on the table, he ran after her, catching her up and running in front of her a little bit before stopping.

"Felicity," he said hurriedly. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable . . ."

"You didn't," she said, shaking her head as she stood on the pavement in front of him. She ducked her head a little as she spoke, crossing her arms across her chest in an invisible barrier.

"Good. I just thought-"

"Everything's fine, Oliver."

"Please listen to me," he begged. He held his arms out, standing in front of her earnestly, and waited until she reluctantly looked up to speak again. His voice was measured, breath coming out steadily, and he chose the words before he said them. "I know I've been acting strangely the past few weeks: making you and Lena stay at my house, being over-protective and worrying. But it's only because I care about you, so much that it scares me. I couldn't let anything happen to you, not because I'd feel guilty – but because I couldn't live my life without you in it. I didn't have a life until you and Diggle saved me. Felicity . . ."

He said her name like a prayer, like something he'd tired tire of saying, and stepped towards her, putting one hand on her arm, by the crook of her elbow, while his other hand went to her face, pushing a loose strand of golden hair behind her ear. The look in his eyes said all the words he couldn't. But as he leaned in closer, head bumping hers, Felicity leaned back, blinking up at him. Oliver had been about to kiss her.

"Oliver, I can't," she stuttered out.

Hurt crossed over his features for just a moment, brows jumping up as his lips parted, a sight Felicity had to tear her eyes from. He still looked at her adoringly, asking, "why not?"

"Because you'll break my heart," Felicity said louder, this time taking a step back. This time, his grip left her, and the heat coursing through her veins left along with it. There were tears in her eyes, but she stood still in front of him. "I wanted . . . this, whatever this is, for so long. But there was always Laurel, or Sara, or someone to shoot with an arrow. Eventually I gave up."

"I won't, and I won't break your heart," Oliver shook his head, taking her head in his hands again, although she turned it down this time. He was pleading, feeling exposed by his honesty, "I want this. I need you."

"You only want this now because we won and you're relieved, but what happens when Slade comes back? You'll do that thing where you push everyone away to try and protect them again, and I'll be left behind. You'll break my heart because you've done it before, and you'll do it again."

"I won't, I promise," Oliver said, but his voice was growing weaker by the second. He'd been so sure she felt the same way that this was like a punch in the gut. Worse. It ached, and he paled as he stepped back as she finally stepped away with a decisive quality, blinking up at him with teary eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"Felicity, wait. Please," he whispered, reaching out a hand, but it closed on empty space. She was gone, walking away. Oliver was left standing in the middle of the sidewalk, alone under a streetlamp with the world crashing around at his feet. He still loved her, but now all that fact caused was pain instead of excitement, agony instead of hope. He waited until her golden head disappeared before he let himself fall down, shoulders turning to the grey floor as the colour left his life, only one tear tracing its way down his cheek before he pushed it all away, losing his hope and his ability to care about anything anymore.

* * *

That night, Lena and Felicity stood in their living room. The coffee table was pushed to the corner of the room as they stood in the centre of it, facing one another; on the younger girls arm was a giant cushioned shield, like the ones football players use in practise, which Felicity was currently hitting. Her blows were more wild and violent than usual, and Lena frowned at her sister's progress. It was late, but as soon as she'd got home Felicity was waiting, asking to train. Although Lena had been in no mood to fight, she had reluctantly agreed, trying not to wince every time her left arm was knocked, sleeves pulled down to hide the long cut there, freshly wrapped up.

"Is something wrong?" Lena asked eventually, as Felicity rained blows down on the dummy she held steady. "You seem a little worked up, Fee."

"It's nothing."

"So it's Oliver then," the younger girl deducted. Her theory was confirmed when Felicity threw an even stronger hit at the mention of his name, startled. "What did he do this time?"

Felicity locked her jaw and spoke tersely, "I don't want to talk about it."

"You _don't_ want to talk? That's new."

"Ha ha, funny," Felicity said dryly, focusing on hitting the thing in front of her. "Can we focus on fighting now?"

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

"_No_."

"Fee," Lena said in a whining voice, "I'm your sister. These heartfelt sappy conversations are what I'm here for." For a moment, Felicity stopped hitting, looking up at her sister dully. Her eyes were red-rimmed like she had been crying, but after a moment she was back to hitting the dummy again, shoulders too tense to allow her to hit well. "Fine, so I'll have to guess. Did he say something stupid? _Do_ something stupid? Be a jerk? Make a move?"

At the last suggestion, Felicity's face twitched just a little, lip down-turning and shock flashing across her face to reveal her. It was all Lena needed to see.

"He made a move? Isn't that a good thing?" the younger sister asked. She leaned on the dummy easily as her sister hit it, analysing her movements whilst still keeping up the very one sided conversation, which at the moment made no sense to her. Then, Lena's face froze in sudden realisation, "wait, you didn't turn him down, did you?"

Felicity stopped punching then, looking up with a dejected expression, "I had to."

"What?" Lena practically shouted, "Why? You like him, he likes you – if you'd had said yes, Diggle would have owed me fifty bucks!"

"You guys put bets on whether Oliver and I would get together?"

"It was a running pool when I got there," Lena explained under her sister's disgusted glare, "hey now, don't you turn this on me! What were you thinking?"

"I couldn't go out with him. I had my reasons."

Lena stayed quiet for long enough that Felicity started hitting the dummy again. She was surprisingly okay, for an IT girl, her hits carrying a lot of core strength. It was probably because she was frustrated, but her aggression tonight was definitely helping. Once her sister had begun to settle into a good rhythm again, Lena spoke carefully, "That's okay then. As long as you did it for yourself, that is okay – but if you're doing this for the wrong reasons . . ."

"There's no 'wrong' reason. This was my decision."

"There are always wrong reasons," Lena said, "Fear being one of them. If you're doing this because you're afraid of Slade, or of Oliver hurting you – that's wrong. That boy looks at you like you are the only one in a room, we all see it enough to make bets on it, how can you not? You're the one who told us that we can live our lives if we're scared of what _might _happen. The same applies here. If you want something, if you want him – and don't lie to me, I know you do – don't run away from it just because you're scared. You'll never know if you keep running away."

Felicity said nothing to that, although she stopped punching so angrily, face clouding in thought. Subconsciously, she knew her sister was right. If she wanted it, and apparently Oliver did too, then why shouldn't they try? It was all her fault, and as Oliver's hurt face when she'd pushed him away flash across her mind, Felicity felt her insides twist. She had to make it right.

"Hey, Fee," Lena smiled, breaking all the tension in the room with her grin. She was watching her sister carefully, and laughed aloud at what she saw – Felicity hit with her left foot out way too much, just like she did. As her sister looked up, Lena couldn't help but shake her head and grin as she repeated the same words she'd been told this morning, "move your back foot in a bit."

* * *

**A/N: **_thank you for all the lovely comments I got after the last chapter, you guys are the what do you think of olicity drama? in the next few chapters I'll be writing up to then initially getting together, then a time jump to established-relationship!olicity to continue the story. if there's anything in particular people want to see, just tell me and I'll try and fit it in! Sorry if updates are slower for the next week only, I have my as exams *loud sigh* Keep reviewing!_


	20. Victory march

** 'Victory march'**

Lena Smoak walked up the stairs to Felicity's apartment slowly, mind reeling. Kevin was dead; murdered back in Coast City. The news had been in the paper she'd grabbed that morning, and had been on her kind ever since. The black and white words were burned onto her retinas yet she still couldn't believe it. He couldn't be dead. If he was dead, it also meant they had broken him; her location was compromised. Kevin had tried to give her a second chance, and now he was gone.

A man had met her that afternoon. It was one of the people who had fixed her new identity the first time she had needed to lie to protect her mother, and had also hid her in Kevin's ranks, right where nobody would think to look, when she had returned. The year she had been missing – she started with Kevin's gang, got taken away, and then came back again. Damaged, but back. Although Lena had never spoken of that year to them, Kevin had always felt responsible for what had happened to her so agreed to hide her in exchange for her working for them again. It had worked for many months, allowing her to run from the real threat searching the globe for her, until she had come to Starling and decided to start again. The people who had taken her that year might have been powerful, but they never knew her real name, so Lena had been able to conceal herself well so far. But it all relied on this one man's silence; the identity he had created for her. He had told her a simple message: "I cannot hide you anymore. I told them who you really are. I'm not sorry, but this is your warning – they're coming. Run."

This meant they were coming for her next, and she was terrified, more than she had ever been in her life. Her own death she didn't fear, just what would happen to Felicity if she died. The run that afternoon had helped, tearing through the city until her lungs burned so much nothing else seemed to matter. The fear seeped back in as soon as she stopped, taking the stairs back up. Thea's party was tonight, but she didn't think she could go. It was too big a lie to walk around and smile. She had managed it for a long time, but tonight she was too drained to put on that mask. She'd think of an excuse – she was ill, she'd fallen, she just wasn't a party person – she'd get out of having to go somehow.

Or at least that's what she thought until she walked through the front door to find both Sara and her sister standing around in extravagant gowns, Felicity just finishing on the other woman's hair when she entered. The apartment was a wreck: makeup brushes and discarded dresses and enough pieces of jewellery to keep a pirate happy littered the couch and floor, and Lena took in all in, mouth open in horror, "did a hurricane blow in through here when I was gone or something?"

"Where have you been?" Felicity demanded, walking towards her with such force that Lena took a few intimidated steps back. "We've got to go in twenty minutes, look at you!"

"Thanks," Lena said sarcastically, acting offended as she sidled past them both artfully. It was very clear now that she didn't in fact have a choice – she was going to this party whether she wanted to or not. So she leaned on the bathroom door, slipping in quickly before either of the others could protest and locking the door before shouting out, "I'll be ready, I promise. Twenty minutes, right?"

On the other side of the room, Felicity and Sara looked at one another in joint exasperation. They'd been getting ready for hours, and there was not a chance of Lena being ready so quickly, not when she'd returned looking like she had just run a marathon. Felicity sighed, sitting down on the couch, "there's no way she is going to be ready in twenty minutes."

* * *

Things were going about the same pace at Roy's. He was alone in his bathroom, also taking the 'get ready ten minutes before' approach as he pushed a comb roughly through his hair and pulled at his jacket. The invite had said 'smart-casual' and he'd taken that literally, as while he wore proper black suit pants, his shirt was light blue and he stubbornly wore a black leather jacket over it. He hated wearing full suits, but this he could just about tolerate. For Thea: it was her night, after all. Done, he grabbed his phone and wallet and left, shutting the door behind him and jumping in his car to head to the Queen's.

One way or another, he had a feeling tonight would be memorable.

* * *

Exactly eighteen minutes later, Lena stepped out of the bathroom, smiling smugly. She was completely ready: wearing the dress Thea had picked out, cobalt blue and long, with her hair up in a curled ball, having no time to do anything different with it after she had showered. She had even done her makeup in the time; face nicely framed with dark eyes and lips. It looked like something which should have taken hours, but she had done it in twenty minutes, a fact she was very proud of, "told you I'd be ready."

"_How_?" Sara asked, looking over the other girl in shock. "That is so not fair! How can you be ready so fast?"

"Practise," Lena grinned, walking over to the couch and sitting down to put on her shoes, which had an alarming high heel. She explained further with a casual shrug, "Sometimes on solo jobs I'd have to go undercover to steal jewels or money, so I'd go to parties, socialise, sneak upstairs and nab what I came for and then come back down for a drink before making my escape. I learned to get ready quickly."

"Who says a life of crime doesn't pay off?" Felicity said dryly to that.

Her sister only shrugged once more, "It was funny sometimes, too. Remember that aircraft place in Coast? And the guy who owned it, um . . . Carl Ferris, who was always in the news?"

"Sure, why?"

"I once went to one of his parties and had to sneak off to get this like, antique plane engine part or something from his study, but right before I went to take it there were reporters and they were taking pictures, right? So all of a sudden as I was leaving, this thing I'd just stolen in my purse, I'm being told to smile for a picture – with Carl Ferris and some of his rich friends. They used that picture in the papers the next day in a report about the theft."

"And it was in your purse in the picture?" Sara asked, trying not to laugh. She knew it was wrong, but it _was_ funny.

"Yeah!" Lena laughed, getting back to her feet and pushing her hair out of her eyes a final time, now ready to go. She sighed happily, "And I still never got caught . . . hilarious."

Felicity only shook her head, grabbing her own clutch now that all of them were ready to go. She had called a cab five minutes ago, and glancing out of the window, she saw it waiting. "I can't condone your life of crime," she told her sister, ushering them all out of the house. But she spared Lena a smile, "but I want to see that picture later."

Lena cracked a smile at that, as she pulled the door shut behind them, the multiple bracelets on her arm jangling as she did. Although nobody else knew it, they hid the fresh cut there from a fight the night before, made-over with foundation and almost invisible now. The girls were on their way.

* * *

The party was started, in full swing by the time Oliver's friends showed up. Instinctively, he'd been worried when they hadn't shown up on time, and he managed to convince himself that his relief was what made his heart jump when they walked in, not the way Felicity looked in a pure white flowing dress under the lights. In fact, as they walked over to meet them, he felt his stomach sink with every step. He didn't know how to act around Felicity now, not after what had happened the night before.

"You guys look very patriotic," Diggle joked as he and Oliver met them, smile on his face. It was only when he looked up that Oliver understood the comment, laughing once he did; Sara was dressed in red, Felicity in white, and Lena in blue. Just like the flag. The girls laughed at this too, only just realizing their accidental mishap on that front.

"You don't look too bad yourself," Sara said back easily. She looked around the house, which had been specifically decked out for the occasion: the lights were off and replaced by spotlights and disco lights, there was a dj deck set up in the main room which was crammed with people, young and old, all dressed to impress and dancing. Music blared from that room, and as they looked around Thea separated herself from the crowd, coming over to greet them.

"Hey!" she yelled happily, practically glowing in the lights. She too wore a dress, but hers was purple and sparkling in the light with glitter. "You guys look great. Like really. Did you just get here?"

"Yeah," Felicity said, sending a look at her sister, "_some of us_ leave getting ready until last minute."

"Ah, bite me," Lena groaned back, rolling her eyes but smiling a little. She turned back to Thea, "how's the party going so far?"

"It's nice," Thea admitted, "but I'm glad you guys are here now. Have you seen Roy?"

"Um, not in a few days. He's probably running late."

"Right, like you were running late yesterday. So much that you ditched us for dinner," Thea accused jokingly. Lena tried to laugh her way out of that one, but suddenly looked uncomfortable, although Thea saved her by answering, "Listen, next time you and Sin set us up, give me a heads up."

"Yeah, of course. That's what it was," Lena lied, glad for the excuse given to her. Her laugh was still a little bit awkward as she looked about for a distraction. Her sister fortunately saved her.

"Oliver?" Felicity asked, meaning to ask for a word privately, but he chose that moment to speak loudly over her, holding out a hand to Sara.

"Can I have a dance?" he said, drowning out Felicity's words as he held his hand out to Sara. After blinking in confusion a few times and sparing her friend a look, to which Felicity slightly nodded, looking put out as she did, Sara left with Oliver for the next room. They vanished quickly, Felicity looking after them with a hurt expression.

As Thea looked between them all, just starting to put the pieces together that something had happened when Diggle took pity on his friend and decided to save her the embarrassment, holding out his own hand to Felicity, "come on, we can't let them have all the fun."

With relief, Felicity left with him quickly, face ashen. As soon as they were gone, Thea leaned closer to Lena conspiratorially, "did something happen?"

"A lot," Lena replied grimly with a shake of her head, "your family – always complicating things. Is it a Queen tradition or something?"

"Shut up," Thea laughed in reply, before adding jokingly, "so does that leave us to dance now or . . .?"

But the Smoak sibling had seen someone approaching over her friend's shoulder, so smirked. Her brows lifted playfully as she said, "actually, I think I've just spotted someone who'd rather have that dance."

Thea frowned as she followed her friend's eyesight, before her gaze fell on Roy, who had just come in and was approaching them hesitantly. His eyes were the same blue as his shirt, and he looked good that night, although Thea tried not to notice it. As he got closer, Lena guided them both towards him with a mischievous smile.

"Hi," Thea greeted him shyly as they all stopped.

"Right, you guys should go dance," Lena said loudly before Roy could even get a word in, looking dumbfounded as he faced them. She grabbed Thea and him by the arm and tried pushing them towards the dance floor, but Thea turned suddenly.

"What about you?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I don't really dance, but I could do with something to eat. Where's the food?"

"In the kitchen," Thea replied, trying to back-track with bugging eyes. "But it's a party, we should all be dancing. In a group. _Together_."

"Oh no, food is my first and only love, but you guys get that dancing started without me," Lena said finally, trying not to smile at her match-making scheme. It was crude, but at least she could get Roy one dance with Thea, which she knew he wanted so badly. This time she practically frogmarched them all to the dance floor with a grin, leaving them in the middle of dancing guests and slapping Roy on the ass with a word which Thea didn't quite catch but made Roy flush furiously, looking like he wanted to kill her. Throwing them both a thumbs up, Lena vanished before either could react, blending into the crowd like she was never there at all.

Thea and Roy were left standing together on the dance floor, music playing all around them. Roy met her eyes once before she looked down, and he sighed loud. "God, I'm gonna kill her."

"I'll help you bury the body," Thea added dryly. Roy looked up to find the corner of her mouth twitching up, and she tilted her head towards the dancing as if to ask if he wanted to, since they were both there anyway. Roy put his arms around her instinctively, as they began swaying to the music.

By the time the song was finished, they were laughing and chatting comfortably. Neither minded that the dance had been forced on them much anymore.

* * *

"Are you alright?" Diggle asked quietly, as soon as he and Felicity were in the other room, the music covering up their words. He kept one hand on her shoulder reassuringly, but he could feel her shaking beneath it as he pulled her into a dance which was more like a hug.

"I don't know," she shook her head, glad her face was pretty much hidden in his chest as they spun in hazy circles, because she could feel it burning. What if Oliver never forgave her? "I messed up. I hurt Oliver and I need to make it right."

"Hey, it'll work itself out," Diggle said encouragingly, and she looked up at that. Her mind was clearing, as she became aware that they were dancing quite out of time at the side of the room. She looked uncertain at that, biting her lip, which only made him laugh. "Felicity, you'll work it out. You two could make up from anything. Plus, you're the one who always talks sense into Oliver. If you can't fix this, then God help us all, frankly."

She almost laughed at that, before remembering something and looking up at him accusingly, "what's this about you all putting bets on me and Oliver?"

"I, uh, I have no idea what you're talking about," Diggle lied badly, laughing as soon as he was done. Although Felicity hit him lightly on the arm, shaking her head disapprovingly, she too was laughing in moments. Trying to cheer her up, he started to swing her in wild circles, spinning her under his arm and moving them about in a mad interpretation of a waltz.

"I had no idea you were a professional dancer," Felicity teased him. Truth was, even Diggle looked good that night in his suit, smile as genuine as always. There was a reason he was her best friend.

"It's one of my hidden talents," he joked back, still swinging her, though less wildly now. "I have a few."

"Thank you," Felicity said suddenly, looking at him sincerely. Like she did to Oliver, Diggle was always the one to make her smile again after a setback. She was grateful for him, although as he sometimes was so uncomplaining and quiet that he was sometimes forgotten; she thought somebody should tell him he was important. He was. No matter what he was going through personally, he was always there. She didn't know what any of them would do without John Diggle. Suddenly, she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek in gratitude, and he was still smiling the same way when she stood back down. "You're the only one who keeps us all sane, you know. You're the glue."

"You're very welcome," Diggle replied. They spun around for a while, trying to be calm in a sea of joy. Neither noticed Oliver looking at them from across the room, from where his head was over Sara's shoulder. He wanted to know what Felicity had wanted to tell him desperately, but then he saw her dancing and smiling and realized she was happy. He had no right to intrude on that with his feelings, nit after she'd already made her choice yesterday. She was probably right – he was poison, why would she want to be with him? Oliver didn't blame her in the slightest, just watching her dance and appreciating her from afar, as it each moment she smiled without him wasn't a shard of glass in his heart.

* * *

"Can I cut in?" Lena's voice interrupted. Oliver looked up to find her standing in the dance floor, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. Sara released him immediately, having already given him a talking to about his rudeness to Felicity.

"You're going to kick his ass, right?" Sara asked, looking at the younger girl as she passed.

"Damn straight," Lena confirmed eyes still sternly on Oliver.

"Good," Sara said, also giving him a significant look, "I'll see you guys later."

Although he had a bad feeling he was about to be vocally pummelled, Oliver smiled graciously at the new arrival and offered Lena his hand. She took it roughly, clearly mad at him, as he put his other hand on her waist respectfully as they began to sway to the music, slightly stiffly. She looked better than she normally did, the effort clearly worth it; she was even taller than her sister tonight, courtesy of the heels she was wearing, which frankly Oliver wondered how she even walked in. Eventually, he sighed, "you could try to smile and stop glaring at me; it's supposed to be a party."

Lena came right out with it, "why were you such a jerk to Fee just?"

"Why does it matter?" he snapped defensively. He assumed Felicity had told her sister what had gone on. "She's made it very clear how she feels about me."

"It matters because you're making me reconsider the advice I gave her."

"And what was that?"

"That she was wrong," Lena revealed, her face screwed up angrily. He changed at that, his own tone becoming much less aggressive as he stopped concentrating on putting on a show of dancing, listening intently to her now. "I told her that if she only turned you down because she was scared, then it was the wrong thing to do. Hell, I told her to go for it! But if you're going to be an ass-"

"I won't," Oliver interrupted suddenly, his face genuinely apologetic. "I love her."

At the admission, his own face set, frozen. He couldn't believe he'd said it . . . . and that it didn't feel wrong at all. It felt perfect, in fact. Honest. He loved her. He loved Felicity. Oliver was so profoundly shocked that his feet stopped working and he almost tripped up, only caught by Lena, who now looked amused by the whole situation.

"Good," she said determinedly, "so when she tries to talk to you again, let her. But Oliver, please – don't hurt her. All I want is for my sister to be happy."

"That's all I want, too."

"I believe you," Lena nodded, trying to smile at him, "and I think you could make her happy. We've all seen how you look at her, just never stop doing that, and I don't think you could ever do wrong. But promise me, in all honesty now, not to hurt her. Not ever. Don't push her away or break her heart, or it's my job as a sister to cut your balls off. Promise?"

Although Oliver grinned widely at her threat, said in all seriousness, he nodded solemnly. "I swear it. I'd never hurt Felicity, or let anyone else hurt her, for that matter."

"I'm glad she'll have you to look out for her," Lena said, and for a second there was something else in her gaze, all humour aside. Fear, or decision. He couldn't tell which. But it was gone in a second as she released him, pushing him away, "then go get her. She just left the room. But Oliver? I only win the bet if _you_ ask _her_ out, so make that happen, yeah?"

Oliver stumbled out of the main party room. He pulled of his heavy suit jacket as he did; leaving him in his shirt and braces, and put it folded on a chair. It would be there when he came back, but all the while his eyes never left the blonde head in front of him, weaving through the rooms of the Queen mansion until she went outside, a beacon in the dark. Oliver reached out for her arm -

* * *

**A/N: **_little bit of a cliffhanger! I've been quite generous with not doing them so far. There should be another chapter up on friday when I get home from my english lit exam, if all goes well. I understand this chapter is a little bit of a filler, but I really liked the diggle/felicity chat, and hints of Lena's secret. That's a slow cord to unravel, so don't expect answers any time soon. please keep up the lovely reviews, almost at 100!_


	21. Fireworks

** 'Fireworks'**

Lena was pleased with her work as she watched Oliver stumble off, shaking her head with a smile. Those two idiots. God knows what it was going to be like if they got together – sickeningly cute, most likely; she resolved to try and get a job and move out as soon as possible. She loved her sister, and Oliver was like family now, but if they were always this dumb and impossible, there was no way she'd keep her sanity living in the same apartment as Felicity if it was always like this. She hoped they worked it out, though.

Once he was out of sight, she picked up a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and downed it in one, her first and last drink of the night. The music was too loud, so as she left the room with a hand on her head she was reminded of how much she hated parties. Not that she'd been to many of them.

Going in the opposite direction than Oliver and Felicity had disappeared in, Lena walked out the front door quietly, not wanting to make a fuss. She just needed air. Desperately, she needed to breathe; everything that day had been a little too much, from hearing the news to the throbbing music inside, and she thought she might be sick if she didn't find a little space. Focusing on keeping breathing, in and out, she slipped away from the party. The front door shut quietly behind her and she started walking towards the front gates, thinking that if she was going to throw up, she might as well do it away from the house and out of sight of its rich guests. Plus, she'd bet the carpets in that house were at least a thousand dollars, so she'd rather not ruin them.

Outside, she felt instantly better, wobbling legs calming to a steady beat of her heels hitting the floor as she walked. At the gate she stopped, leaning against the stone wall pillar holding the iron gates up with a sigh of relief. The night was cool, but not bitterly so, and she was glad for the chill in her bones to stop her from burning up.

Lena Smoak was content, happy at the events of the night even, until she heard more footsteps approaching. They were so quiet that she almost missed them, but then the distinct metallic sound of the unsheathing of a blade met her ears, making her face drop not in fear, but in annoyance. She couldn't even get _one_ night off.

Knowing without needing to look that there was a man behind her, disguised as a guest, most likely, Lena turned with sudden anger and threw a punch.

* * *

When an arm touched her own, Felicity almost jumped out of her skin. With a little noise of shock, a mixture of an intake of breath and a yelp, she turned – to see Oliver standing behind her. He had a dazed look on his face and his eyes were unfocused, making her wonder for a few seconds whether he was drunk. But when he spoke, his words held no slur and were precise, measured as they left his lips, which she seemed to be staring at.

"Felicity," he said hesitantly, all of his courage deserting him. "You, uh, wanted to talk to me?"

"Right! I did, thank you for coming to find me," she agreed loudly, blinking and forcing herself to look up and meet his eyes, which were piercing her. He was standing close again, and suddenly it felt very easy. He was there, and she adored him; believing now that what he had claimed the night before was true. When he looked at her the way he did right then, Felicity wondered how she'd missed it before. "I'm sorry."

"You never have to apologise to me," Oliver started softly, but she cut him off.

"I do. I want to," When she spoke again, just smiling a little at him, it was calmly, not her usual babble but a caring, deeply calmed tone, "Listen, I was wrong. I don't want to run away anymore . . . since all this started; I've felt like I was running away – from my past, and my fears. But I wasn't. I was running towards you."

"But I thought . . . last night you said-"

"I was wrong," she repeated again, "I was scared. I really like you, Oliver. I always have. You're a hero; you're my hero, and I didn't want to risk losing you."

"I've told you before, you're never losing me," Oliver said, taking a step towards her. She didn't move away. He added, "Not ever."

She smiled slowly then, the sort of smile which builds on a person's face: just an amused look in the eyes, a twitch of lips, spreading outwards until it consumed all of them, with teeth showing in a grin, bright and burning.

"I believe you," she eventually said. "But just in case – I don't plan on ever letting go of you again."

To both of their surprise, it was Felicity who made the first move. She finished her last sentence in a hurry, moving forwards in the small space between them even as she said it, then she was reaching for Oliver's braces and using them to pull him forwards, lips meeting in the middle. She was strong and steady as an ocean, and Oliver was blown away by it so much that he made a noise of shock when she kissed him, recovering himself after a few moments to tilt his head and pull her closer, one hand on her elbow as the other tugged her back forwards, pressing them even closer together in the embrace.

He couldn't quite comprehend it. This was Felicity, his hopeless dream, and she wanted him, she was kissing him. She filled all of his senses, only blazing brighter as he shut his eyes and kissed her back, mind still reeling. It was happening; she was real, and he loved her. He didn't even have to say the words yet, his actions said it all as they stood outside the back, the party still jumping inside but for all either of them cared, it was just them and the night.

* * *

Roy was getting worried. They'd been at the party for a while now, but apart from when she'd first ditched him in the awkward dance situation, he hadn't seen Lena all night. It was as if she'd vanished. Nobody else seemed to have seen her either, as he weaved through the guests asking. Thea and Sin had gone to search the upstairs rooms for their friend, while he headed to check outside, not knowing what to think.

To be honest, it scared him more than it probably should have. They had spent the past few weeks convincing themselves it was finally safe, and his best friend vanished for two seconds and he's panicking? _Pathetic, Harper_, he thought to himself. This much worrying at a party wouldn't do, but for some reason he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong.

Outside, he took a few hesitant steps down the driveway. Only blackness met his eyes, impenetrable and empty. Roy had turned to walk away when he heard a noise, like a scuffle, so started walking towards it, almost running by the time he got to the gates. The sight that met his eyes as he rounded the corner was carnage: there was a man on the floor, eyes suspiciously shut, while two more were currently fighting Lena. It was happening in flashes, and Roy found himself strangely frozen watching, unable to tear his eyes away or make a sound.

The blows were being exchanged almost too quick for the eyes to follow, the two darkly dressed men trying to hit out at Lena, who was knocking away every blow with her forearms without too much effort, and visibly looked like she was holding back. In fact, despite being attacked by two people with ninja-like skills, her face remained unfazed, and she threw in some moves similar to them, at one point flipping over a punch to deflect it, skills Roy never knew she had. He had no idea what was going on, but when he saw her lips moving, he strained to hear what she was saying to the men.

"Please, don't do this. Just stop – there's another way. Let me speak, you'll understand, you can take a message. Don't make me hurt you, please. I don't want to be that person anymore."

It was odd; her words made no sense to Roy. She was pleading with them, her voice ragged with the effort of holding them off without hurting them – and she was begging to not have to fight? What was going on? Who were these people?

"Sorry," one of the men said gruffly, "we have our orders."

Then, as he said it, the man made a wild leap for her, jumping through the air – with a knife. Roy only caught its glint of silver as it flashed through the air, and was almost jerked from his senses enough to make a noise as the man flew over Lena's head. But she, it seemed, was ready. As the man flew by, slashing out at her, she jumped up and caught him mid-leap, landing with him on her back before falling forwards in a forwards role, his body being crushed by hers as it him the floor, and grabbing the knife from him, stabbing it into his forearm. The man shrieked loudly in pain, the knife impaling him to the floor, before she booted him in the temple with her heel as she stood just in time for the second man to throw a dagger at her.

She dodged easily, that and three more he threw in increased desperation as she crossed the space between them in dodges and leaps, easily even in her heels, before she stood before him. As the man threw out his hand instead, knife enclosed in it, she blocked it, sending the knife scattering across the pavement, scraping against the concrete in a way which set Roy's teeth on edge. He had just realized he was standing watching instead of helping, when his friend took care of herself.

After dodging a few more punches she gave in, jumping up and wrapping her calves around the man's head, turning until he fell to the ground, but then when they landed, Lena twisted her thighs to a further angle – and Roy heard the man's neck snap. It was a click, which he felt was too quiet to end a person's life, yet the man fell inanimate to the ground.

Lena had just killed a man. She didn't even think twice about it, turning her back on the man immediately – just as bullets hit the ground around her. Rolling instinctively to cover by the wall, he too ran to cover but saw her pull a hidden gun from her purse, attaching a silencer to it with a practised move. Once it was on, she listened for signs of the shooter for a moment, before standing directly in the line of fire and letting off two shots. If the two thumps that fell afterward were anything to go by, she had killed them too.

In the aftermath, she was left standing in the middle of bodies she'd put there, not even a spot of blood on her dress and only the utter anguish on her face any clue at all to what she had done. As Roy stepped out from his hiding place and into the light, her expression only fell further; tears started to glisten in her eyes as he mouth opened to explain, but no words came out. He could see her trying to work out what to say as her eyes darted from side to side, calculating, but in the end she just looked defeated, closing her lips and sighing.

"It's over," she said quietly, shaking her head.

"What?" he asked. Not expecting those words, his features were troubled with confusion as he regarded her with new respect and confusion. "What's over? What do you mean?"

"I _mean_, I'll have to leave now," Lena said dejectedly, putting a hand to her head and crumbling. When she looked up, a tear had leaked from one of her eyes, "God, I was just starting to think I could start over; that this could be a new home. I should have known better."

"Wait, why do you have to leave?"

"Because you'll tell them," she said loudly, as if it were obvious, throwing her hand to one side as she looked at him. "You'll tell Felicity and Oliver and . . . I can't explain this to them. My other life, it was something I never wanted them to know about. Now with them being what they are – with them being heroes. They'll hate me!"

"Hey," Roy held his hands out, walking towards her. He figured he should be afraid, seeing what he now knew she was capable of, but somehow the thought seemed absurd. He could never be afraid of Lena; she was his friend. No matter what she had just done, she was still the same person who had been coming round to his place every Tuesday night and failing at video games, and who had spent that evening getting him the dance he really wanted just because she knew it would make him happy. Never in a million years did Roy think anything she could tell him would make him think she was a bad person. It just wasn't true. "How about this – you tell me, and _then_ I'll decide what to do. I don't always follow orders, remember? I want to help you."

She shook her head, even more tears falling. Somehow, the thought of him hating her too hurt her almost as much as the thought of what Felicity would think of her. "No, I can't. 'Cause you'll hate me too, and I never want that. You were my first friend, Roy. I had Felicity when we were kids, but she's family, it's not the same. In school I was the freak with the dying mother who could never come to parties and dropped out, and since then I've always been too busy to have friends. You were the first person who ever wanted to be my friend, and if I tell you the truth you'll hate me too."

"I won't-"

"You won't want to be my friend," she sobbed even harder, body starting to shake, she spat out the words, hating herself. She didn't think it was possible for any of them to hate her as much as she did, but she figured they would never want to see her again. "You won't want to even be near me."

"Friends stick by each other!" Roy said passionately, taking another step closer to put a hand on her arm. She looked up fearfully, and he knew nobody that vulnerable had turned out to be a killer by their own choice, so he felt nothing but sympathy for her, especially as she cried so openly. "Nothing you could tell me is going to change what I think of you."

"You say that now," she quipped. Her head was still hanging, and he saw her tremble.

Roy saw all that inwardly-directed bitterness and his tough-guy face crumbled. Without thinking he pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her and closing his eyes tightly for a second as he squeezed. He felt silly afterwards, he was the opposite of a hugging person, but when she hugged him back, leaning on him before she realized her own legs were failing, it was all worth it. They stood in the cold air for a moment longer, breathing coming out in clouds, before Roy let her go and straightened.

"Before you tell me anything, we've got to get them out of here," he said, indicating the bodies. Although he moved quickly to grab the legs of the nearest man, she stayed still, tilting her head and looking at him in shock.

"You trust me, just like that?"

"Of course," he replied steadily. His eyes never wavered as he spoke, and she believed his words. She silently said thanks for good friends, and Diggle's sniper lessons – she'd have missed the shots on the gunmen without them. But she was saved by replying as he looked at her again, issuing instructions she followed from years of conditioning to not question orders. "Come on, we can't let anybody see."

* * *

Eventually, after what felt like several days, Oliver came to his senses and pulled away long enough to catch his breath, both of theirs heavy and hitching, before leaning his forehead on Felicity's. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

He looked at her gently, and her answer was easy, "Yes. It really is."

"Because I don't want you to do this just because of what I said the other night, or because your sister talked you into it, not if it's not what you really want."

"Oliver," she said, leaning in for another quick kiss before putting her hand on the side of his face, fingertips brushing against his prickly stubble, "All I want is you. Believe me."

He grinned at that in relief, tilting his head to the side as he did before kissing her on the temple, the neck, before their lips met once more. They were both smiling. When he let go the second time, he glanced over his shoulder at the party before looking back at her, eyes bright. "Do you wanna get out of here? I'd rather spend my time with you than the stuck-up pricks in there."

Felicity frowned, "aren't they your friends?"

"Doesn't mean I like them," Oliver grinned, "you and Diggle are my friends. You're all I need. What do you say?"

"Where will we go?"

"Your place?" Oliver suggested, smile taking on a mischievous edge as he bit his lip. She looked uncertain for a moment, worrying about taking things too fast as another bubble of gear rose up in her chest before she pushed it down and smiled back up at him. He back tracked at her look, "I didn't mean anything by it – we could just watch a movie or talk or-"

Oliver was cut off as she laughed and kissed him again. She had the same look in her eyes as he did, so unlike Felicity and burning that it was intoxicating as she led him by the hand towards the door, "come on, let's get out of here then."

* * *

Diggle was standing with Sara as Oliver and Felicity left. He saw them out of the corner of his eye, and they were being far from obvious, Oliver pressing his lips into her exposed shoulder as she grabbed her coat, both of them leaving without an explanation or a word to them, not even noticing them. Although the corners of his mouth turned up, pleased for his friends, Diggle also spared a look to Sara. She was his friend too.

She had noticed them too, and although she was far too good to let her face betray her emotions, he knew it couldn't be easy. She and Oliver had history. Putting a hand on her back, which only made her start a little, Diggle looked at her kindly, "are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Because I know you and Oliver-"

"I'm pleased for them," Sara admitted. It stung a little, but she was genuinely happy that they had each other. God knows they both needed someone. "Me and Ollie . . . well, we all know we never work. If they're happy, I am."

"Still, come on. I'll get you a drink."

"Aren't all these drinks free?"

Diggle laughed, "The sentiment still counts."

"Do you think our turning to alcohol at times like this is turning into a problem?" Sara asked sarcastically as they walked away, making her friend laugh.

Diggle smiled wryly, "Maybe not for another few years."

"So," Sara said, as they lifted their glasses and drank. Pushing it all aside, she cracked a grin, lifting an eyebrow, "when can we cash in those bets?"

* * *

Later, Oliver wished he remembered that night in more detail.

He remembered the light at Felicity's place as they'd sat on the sofa, some movie neither of them watched playing on in the background. He remembered she smelled sweet, her perfume hitting his nose as he buried his face into her neck, and that she laughed every time his stubble brushed her skin. He remembered kissing her until they fell asleep right there in each others arms, and the way she breathed in as he breathed out, an undecided but perfect rhythm. He remembered the touch of her hair under his fingertips, slipping through them like sand in an hourglass. He remembered her face, smiling; golden.

Everything else was a blur.

They were so busy with each other and their joy that it didn't occur to them that Lena did not come home that night.

* * *

While Oliver and Felicity held each other in golden light, Lena and Roy stood in blackness underneath a bridge in the city. They threw each of the dead into the river to be washed away alongside the blood on their hands, except for the man Lena had stabbed in the arm – he still lived. Zip-tied and unable to move, he had glared at them until she walked over to him, leaning in front of him threateningly. The man tried to spit in Lena's face, but Roy caught his cheeks before he had the chance.

"Spitting is rude," Roy said coldly. He had not been given the promised explanation yet, but Lena said she had to deal with this man first, and he believed her, standing back to let her speak.

"You're going to take a message back for me," Lena said to the man.

"No," he shook his head furiously. Blood spilled from his arm, black against his clothes, his face winching in pain every time he moved. She had little pity for him. "I was sent to kill you, that is what I will do."

"That plan didn't work out too good for your friends!" she hissed at him. "But you're going to be clever and do as I say, got it? When you get back, you're going to tell _him_ that it is a waste of honour to send others to do his dirty work._ I_ was his protégée, he's the only one who should kill me."

Roy jerked up at that, making a sound of protest, but she held up a hand to silence him, still focused on the man before her.

Lena went on, "You tell him this is the deal: someday, I have no doubt, our paths will cross again and when they do, I will fight him. One on one combat with no interference, to the death. That is how I will die, if he wants me dead – at his own hand. As it should be."

She cut the man's hands lose after that, keeping a gun on him. He looked to be thinking, and eventually nodded at her, getting ready to disappear. But just before he could, she added acidly, "oh, and tell him that any of his people who cross into this city in the meantime will share the same fate as your friends."

The man disappeared in seconds once he was free, and with nobody to be intimidating to Lena slumped, looking tired as she rubbed her eyes. Seeing a piece of concrete jutting out over the water, she walked to it and almost collapsed, feeling Roy sit beside her a moment later, although she kept her eyes on the water. She was afraid of water, something she'd kept secret among many other things.

After a moment, Roy reached over and took her hand, making her look up at him. He was her brother; there was no doubt in her mind anymore. Gently, he said, "Tell me."

So she did. She told him everything she'd kept aside last time – her last story hadn't been a lie, exactly; she had just left a lot out. A year of her life, to be exact. As it went on, he could understand why she had kept quiet. He didn't blame her for any of it, not for a second – but he could see why she blamed herself, and why she kept it a secret. He wouldn't like people to see that side of him, either, although since his mirakuru rages, he understood it better than anyone. She cried as she told the worst parts.

When she was done, he said quietly, "I won't tell Oliver."

"You won't?" Lena looked up, hope flickering behind her eyes like a fuse.

He shook his head, "but you should. I know why you didn't tell us before, but they won't blame you. They love you too much for that, we all do. You did what you had to." But as her shoulders turned down and she said nothing to that, he realized she didn't believe it was true. "Lena, you're not a bad person. No matter what you've done, you did it with good intentions."

"Right. And we all know what the road to Hell is paved from."

"This is different," he said strongly. He still hadn't let go of her hand, so squeezed it tightly now. "It doesn't matter what you've done, you had no choice. They didn't give you a choice tonight either, they were trying to kill you. It matters what you do now. And none of it changes the fact that since you've got here, the story's the same – you're trying a different way; to be a hero."

She shook her head bitterly, "I'm no hero."

"Not yet. But I believe in you."

Looking up at his words, she could see that Roy wasn't lying. He really did believe in her, and that hurt the most. People had no much faith in her – her sister, the others – and she was still lying to them. But she was still too scared to tell them. It was the same as what she'd told her sister the other night about not making choices based on fear, and here she was, hiding in the dark. What a hypocrite.

Suddenly, Roy got to his feet and offered her a hand. "Come on, you can stop at mine tonight – no arguments. I'm not letting you go off alone and do something stupid."

"Me? Stupid?" she joked weakly as she got up. They checked one last time that they bodies had sunk before leaving together, an understanding reached between them without words. She tried another smile, "as if."

* * *

When Felicity woke up the next morning, the first thing that she saw was Oliver smiling at her. There was light coming from her window behind him, and he looked like some sort of angel bathed in it. She wondered why he was smiling, and was about to ask when he opened his mouth and said three simple words. They were finally true, and he could barely believe this wasn't a dream.

"You're my girl."

* * *

**A/N: **_so after the disappointment of the 'I love you' being fake in the finale (but lets be real, that boy is so in love with Felicity that it hurts) have some olicity getting together! Also, I am freaking out about the Flash trailer and all it's glory, please come talk to me about it. I'll update again on sunday now. okay, back to fangirling cause Barry freaking Allen is my ultimate fave, the dorky lil speedster._


	22. Awakening

**'Awakening'**

They acted like nothing happened. Roy and Lena never spoke of that night again, except for in wordless glances and squeezes of hands; he didn't push it, and she tried to be the person she had become, not the one she was. They kept their silence, and their secret.

Two weeks passed quickly: a man visited Lena a week afterwards and told her that the deal was acceptable. Nobody else would come looking to kill her, but the moment she saw him again, they would fight to the death. It bought her time, although she had no idea just how much. She couldn't keep running forever.

Things got worse before they got better. She spent a few weeks in a sort-of depression which the others noticed, but nobody but Roy understood why. She had worked so hard to lock her past behind a door, only to have the hinges blown off. It was no easy thing. She still stopped over every Tuesday night to play games or watch movies; and her, him, Thea and Sin had started a weekly Saturday meeting at that Mexican place. They were all very close, and they were only growing closer. But her current mood was becoming more noticeable with every day, her silences oppressive in the Foundry some nights. Oliver had asked Roy once if he knew what was going on, and true to his word, Roy had lied and said he had no idea. All he hoped was that Lena pulled herself together and got back to her old self soon.

When Oliver and Felicity came clean and started dating, the team only grinned as dollar notes were exchanged behind backs. They started slowly with a few dates, dinners and walks around the city, but within a fortnight Oliver spent more time at their place than Lena did, so, tired of having to wait for him to use the bathroom or of him and Felicity being a little too obvious with the PDA everywhere she looked – Lena had moved out. She had a job by then as a private investigator, which the team teased her tirelessly for, but as she pointed out, her skill set left her with two options: PI, or some kind of super-spy. It wasn't hard or particularly serious work and she fitted it in around her Arrow and social life schedules easily.

Oliver and Felicity seemed to click with one another like it was the easiest thing in the world. He had actually been nervous before their first date, and took her flowers, yellow like her hair. She'd put them in a vase on the window, but as they died, kept a single one, pressed in a book. Just a reminder of why she loved him straight away. After that it was natural – kisses would be exchanged instead of words before missions as the team groaned in the background, and he spent every other night curled around her protectively. He slept better with her pressed up against him, and her favourite way to wake up was to look over and see him sleeping peacefully at her side.

But like all periods of calm, a storm would inevitably come, to wash it all away.

* * *

One day, about two and a half weeks after, Roy and Lena walked into the Foundry to find Felicity and Sara sitting at the monitor, while Diggle and Oliver seemed to be trying to punch one another, all laughing and talking about something.

"What's so interesting?" Lena asked. For a while after that night, Roy had saw the tightness of her smile and known it to be fake, but she had got better with his help. Time worked miracles, and he convinced her she was trying; now she grinned genuinely. Even allowing herself the hope for happiness was a big step.

"We finally found that picture – the one you told us about the night of Thea's party?" Felicity said. She didn't notice the way Lena's face twitched at the mention of the night, replaced in a second by a look of confusion, so Felicity went on, "when you stole the plane part."

"Oh, right," Lena nodded, walking over.

"Wait, what?" Diggle asked, looking over. He and Oliver hadn't been really paying attention, but the words caught his attention. They both wandered over to see an old newspaper article on Felicity's monitor, "you stole what?"

"It was a long time ago," Lena back-tracked nervously while laughing a little. "It was just a funny story."

"Then tell it," Oliver said. He tried to look disapproving but didn't quite pull it off, instead scanning the article quickly. It told about an old engine, very expensive, which had been stolen at some rich-guys event. He didn't understand why it had anything to do with the girl until he saw a photo at the bottom of the article. Noticing Lena right away, in a red dress a little too short and a giant bag, he read the caption at the bottom. '_Carl Ferris, his daughter Carol, Hal Jordan and Guest enjoy his party before the theft was discovered_.' They looked like typical rich people, the type he'd been known to hang out with – the younger, dark haired man in particular laughing with the classic smirk on his face which screamed trouble. The others seemed to know one another, but Lena smiled awkwardly at the camera. Oliver frowned, piecing it together as he looked at Lena, "you didn't."

"I might have," she said, making a face.

"She what?" Diggle asked, still not getting it.

"You stole it, didn't you?" Oliver asked her flat out.

"It was in my purse when they took the picture."

There was a snickering of laughter between them all, that they muffled behind hands or clenched teeth. Nobody wanted to really laugh in case Oliver was angry, but after ten seconds of fixing her with an emotionless angry face, he broke, grinning as he laughed. Realizing he was only trying to trick them, they all laughed now at the absurdity of the situation.

"It isn't that funny," Lena said, looking exasperated even at the memory, "I was making my escape when suddenly there was an arm around me – I thought I'd been caught! I was panicking and it wasn't until I saw the camera that I realized what was going on, I damn near collapsed of shock at the time."

"And they never found out the thing they were looking for was in the picture?" Roy asked.

Now, she grinned, "nope."

"I am _not_ condoning it," Oliver said firmly, holding out a finger before he laughed again, "but they do all look like rich jerks."

"Says the rich jerk."

"Hey!" Oliver cried, smacking her on the back of her head. "Right, that's it. Time to train, I think."

Lena groaned but immediately moved over to the mats, ready to let him beat her up for a few hours. She shared a look with Roy and lifted her eyebrows, thinking _one day_. They both knew she was holding back in front of the others now, and that she could probably kick Oliver's sorry ass in minutes. But for now, resigned to being knocked about for a few hours, she only laughed and tilted her head in acknowledgement of the fact.

But Felicity's phone rang unexpectedly, which Lena was too busy trying to block Oliver's hits to really take note of as her sister excused herself to take the call. But when Felicity came back a few minutes later, looking both pleased and pale, Diggle noticed.

"Felicity, what's wrong?" he asked, attracting all of their attention. Felicity looked at all of them, shock almost making her fall down from weak knee's, but then her gaze locked with Oliver's.

"It's Barry," she said, voice a little breathless, "he's awake."

* * *

Lena sighed heavily, rolling her head back until it hit the concrete wall behind her and sighing. She might have loved the five people in the room more any anyone else on earth, but they made no sense to her sometimes. She'd heard about Barry Allen, of course. Felicity had told her the entire story one night as they sat on the couch, and although she had never met the man, Lena found herself sympathising with the coma patient who had basically saved all her friends for nothing in return; a rare but noble quality. Felicity had even asked if she would like to come with her next time she visited; Lena had never been to Central City before, so agreed in a heartbeat. But she also noticed the distant look in her sister's eyes, telling her that Felicity cared for Barry, or did at some point, meaning she shouldn't have to go alone. Hospitals were grim places, and comas were terrible things. Lena understood it all too well, although she never mentioned this to her sister, holding her tongue. There was no need to add her own tragedy into the mix.

Although that trip had never happened with everything else going on, Lena had worked out a few things from when Barry had been mentioned in passing since. 1) Felicity and Barry had obviously had a thing. 2) Oliver was the jealous type. 3) Despite all of that, Barry had acted like a good friend to them. He might have been Felicity's 'somebody' for a time, but that was over – but he was still their friend.

So even the fact that they had to talk about whether or not to go, much less argue about it, made no sense to her whatsoever.

She had walked off as soon as they'd started, retreating to the corner of the room, Roy following quickly behind her and looking like he had no intention of getting involved. They had sat on a table in the corner for the past ten minutes silently, only sighing loudly or huffing to communicate. Looking over, she watched as the discussion got heated, Oliver and Felicity being the main speakers with Diggle and Sara adding their own ideas at intervals. Straining to hear, as she had hearing damage from long ago in her right ear, Lena tried to catch a few words.

"I'm going," Felicity was saying strongly, right in Oliver's face. "We owe him that much, you know we do."

Oliver bit his lip, "I'm just not sure it's safe."

"We both know that isn't what this is about!" Felicity countered, shaking her head. Since they'd been going out, she and Oliver rarely argued, and when they did it was only bickering the way couples who spent all of their time together did. But today they were both completely serious, and although she hated the feeling rising from her stomach of unease, she was also determined not to back down. "Slade's been gone for months, so don't lie to me and say this is about danger. You might as well say what you really mean."

"And what's that?"

"You know."

"Fine! I'm not comfortable about you rushing to the side of your ex, happy?" Oliver snapped, regretting the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. He hated the jealousy, but didn't know how to stop it. Felicity was his girl. Although he expected her to be angry at him for it, her face softened slightly, and she took a step forward and put a hand on the side of his face, fingers moving slightly to caress it.

"Oliver, you don't have to worry about that. Barry and I were never together – yeah, I liked him at the time, but I'm with you now. That's all I want: _you_. You know that, right?"

At her words, so gentle when he didn't deserve it, Oliver pulled her hand from his face and pressed his lips to her fingers, holding the hand tightly afterwards. He looked down at her and she was still watching him kindly, head tilted to one side. Squeezing her hand, he looked guilty, "I'm sorry. I just don't like the thought of losing you."

"You're never losing me," Felicity said simply. After they'd looked at each other for a moment too long, Diggle cleared his throat.

"So are we going or not?" he asked loudly, breaking their concentration. At his interruption, Oliver looked around to find Sara pointedly looking away and the two teenagers sitting in the corner, looking bored. Then he looked back at Felicity; she was still staring at him, asking with her eyes.

"Okay," Oliver said eventually, "we'll go."

"Shouldn't the Arrow stay in Starling?" Lena asked, getting to her feet and walking over. "You know, being its guardian angel and all. We can't leave the city unprotected, not when Slade could come back any time."

"I want to go with Felicity," Oliver started to protest, but Felicity herself interrupted, finally releasing his hand.

"No, she's right," Felicity said, "you should stay, the city might need you. But it only takes one of us to see if Barry is okay, after all. I'll go."

"Not alone."

"I'll go with her," Lena shrugged. She put her hands in her pockets, giving Oliver a sharp look. "I've never been to Central, and it's not like anyone will miss me. The Canary and The Arrow might be the heroes of this city, but I can easily take a few days off work without any suspicion."

Remembering Lena's words from the night he and Felicity had got together about not hurting her sister, Oliver knew exactly what that look was communicating about keeping his jealousy in check. He groaned inwardly. He knew it was a feeling he would have to get used to, and learn to live with, so now was a good time to start – but he hated to see Felicity go anywhere without him. Honestly, even if she were only gone for a few days, he would miss her, especially when he woke up alone.

"I- I'm not sure."

"Oh, come on!" Lena said exasperatedly, and he didn't understand why it was bothering her so much until she spoke. Her apathy had been worrying him for weeks, but she spoke with a notably dead tone now. "I never took you as the type to give up on a friend, Oliver."

He tried to argue back, now understanding why she seemed so pissed off at him. Her loyalty. Her past life had worked a pledge into her of a strict loyalty towards friends, and she saw his uncomfortable attitude over not wanting Felicity to go as a betrayal of Barry's friendship to him. Oliver frowned, "I'm not giving up on him, I just -"

"Like Hell you are!" she shouted out, "just because you're jealous, you want to leave him alone when he wakes up? The way I heard the story – he was your friend. He helped you, and he was only hit by lightning because he was there late because he was here saving you. Are you really going to deny him a friendly face when he wakes up?"

"She's right – he is our friend," Diggle shrugged nearby. "We owe him to treat him as one. You know it, Oliver."

Biting back a sigh, Oliver forced a smile onto his face as he looked down on them. "You can go on one condition," he said, and when they looked sceptical at that, he grinned wider, "you both come back safe."

"Got it, Chief" Lena said sarcastically.

Felicity turned and started explaining how the computers in there worked to Diggle and Sara, as Lena turned back to Oliver and added in an undertone, "well done. I thought you were going to be a complete jerk there."

Oliver looked grim, "So did I. None of this is Barry's fault – make sure they're both okay while you're there?"

"You know I will," Lena said, but then she frowned. "I never knew you had a jealous side."

"It's just . . . Barry is a good man."

"You're a good man too, even though you don't believe it."

Before he could even register that the younger girl had complimented him, she was gone, muttering something about packing. Oliver watched Lena leave with a slight look on concern on his face and he wondered just how much more she kept to herself. – and since he and Felicity were together, that made her his sort-of sister in law. She was family now. Resolving to try and talk to her when they girls got back, he turned to talk to Felicity, pulling her away from the other's to stand briefly in the shadows of the Foundry.

"Stay safe, promise me?" he asked as soon as they stopped, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. They might have only been together for two weeks, but he had loved her for a lot longer than that, so it was all so easy for him. She nodded back, making him smile, "I'm going to miss you."

"I'm only going to be gone for a few days," Felicity laughed, shaking her head.

"And it'll be a few days without you;" Oliver said sadly, "a single day is too much for me. I want to spend every day with you."

At his words, Felicity felt her heart tug in her chest, an invisible cord tying her to him. Her face fell softly at the words, before she stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him in the darkness, for once not caring that the others were in the room. He pulled her closer, and when they broke away he pulled her into a tight hug, both crushing her and making her feel safe.

"I'll be back before you know it," she said quietly over his shoulder. She hated to leave him, but they both knew it was important to be there for their friend. They'd have to spend time apart at some point, too, even if it hurt. But for now, she loved him, and he loved her, although neither had said it yet. Not in so many words, at least. Oliver's next words may well have been 'I love you' just in a simpler way.

"I'll be waiting for you to come home."

* * *

In the hospital in Central City, Barry Allen's heart was racing. Everything was, including the room. He was waking up slowly, more and more things coming into focus with every passing minute, and as they did, he panicked more and more. A single thought seized him, as every part of his body felt like it were simultaneously on fire and sinking, heavy, made of stone: _something is wrong._

* * *

**A/N:** _So did everyone see the Flash trailer? I have watched it about 20 times and screamed the house down in excitement. Like the trailer, I also did a giant GL name drop in this chapter, hope you caught it. So Barry's back. The next few chapters are him becoming the Flash so that he is established as a friend to the team so he had lend a hand in later chapters. But I am pissed cause the trailer also did a scene similar to one in the next chapter - which I wrote two weeks ago, damn it. nobody really told me what they thought of olicity in the last chapter, so please let me know in this one. Any scenes you want to see or things that need tweaking are welcome, too. night, everyone._


	23. When the world is a blur

** 'When the world is a blur'**

Felicity and Lena got to Central City that very day, the train journey silent and nerve-wracking. The call had come through in the morning, so after the few hours it took to get there it was approaching afternoon when the two sisters walked into the hospital, having stopped only to drop off their travel bags at a nearby hotel. They'd even checked in under a false name, just to keep extra safe and keep Oliver happy; he'd already called twice to check they were okay. Now, as Felicity saw two familiar faces in the waiting room and grinned, they rushed over to Caitlin and Cisco.

"Hi," Felicity greeted joyfully when she stopped in front of her friends, who looked just as relieved as she did, "I came as soon as I heard the news. How is he?"

"He's not really conscious yet, more waking," Caitlin explained, "but the doctors think he will be soon. It's a really big change."

"That's amazing," Felicity smiled again, "are we allowed to go in and see him?"

"We were in there for a while, but we left him with Iris."

Felicity's face went still for a brief moment, before she pushed the emotion jumping up in her aside. She had Oliver now . . . and apparently Barry had 'Iris'. Although she had never met the other woman, Felicity had heard a little about her by now, and knew she was a reporter for the city's news. After a moment, she only said, "oh."

"But I'm sure she won't mind you going in!" Cisco interrupted, aiming for a cheerful look but coming across as more desperate to break the tension. "The more friends Barry has there when he wakes up the better, right? You and Iris can keep him company. There's a rule of two visitors per beside though, so your . . . friend will have to wait out here."

"Of course, I'm sorry," Felicity shook her head, looking at them both before gesturing to Lena, "This is my little sister, Lena. She came up with me."

"Nice to meet you," Caitlin said, flashing them a quick smile before checking her watch. She looked back up uncomfortably, "I'm sorry, but we really should get going. Someone will notice we're not at work if we're gone for too long – but we'll be back later."

"Right. See ya later, Felicity," Cisco waved once, and the two scientists disappeared down the hospital corridor. It was busy, people and beds being pushed about filling the stuffy corridors; Felicity pulled at the high-necked white collar of her blue dress, although the heat was hardly bothering her. Social interaction wasn't her strong point at the best of times, and having to go and sit at Barry's bedside with a stranger was downright awkward.

"Go," Lena said, pushing her on the arm towards the ward. She had noticed her sister's face but knew Felicity had to go and do this. "He needs you. And I don't think the big scary lady's got anything on you – she pisses you off, I taught you how to kick her ass."

Laughing a little at that, Felicity felt warmth spread through her stomach. No matter what else happened that day, Barry was okay. That was a miracle by anyone's standards. She tilted her head to look at her sister, "are you going to be alright on your own?"

"I'll be fine," Lena nodded, indicating a seat right outside the doors to the ward, "I'll sit right here and keep an eye out. You never know who might be walking around in this place, and I promised to watch out for you both. Just . . . take all the time you need, make sure he's okay, and be glad that you got a friend back."

This time, Felicity's smile was genuine, teeth shining as it morphed into a grin which consumed her face. "Oh, I am."

As she turned and vanished into the ward, giving a nurse on the desk her name before being directed to a room, Lena Smoak watched her sister go curiously. Although she didn't like being out of her eye line, she was confident she had taught Felicity well enough to handle herself should anything happen and besides, she was only a corridor away. Lena strolled to the empty seat she'd pointed to before, the blue cushion uncomfortable as she sat and glanced around the drab waiting room. She noticed a clock on the wall directly across from her and resigned herself to the fact that it was going to be a very dull few hours, watching the time go by.

* * *

Felicity walked confidentially into the hospital room, a whiteboard on the door bearing Barry's name and his medical chart outlining his condition, which she passed a cursory glance over before pushing down the door handle and walking in, heels clicking. The blue dress she wore swished with her movement, bag clutched under one arm, and added to the extra confidence she had that day, she didn't look like somebody to be messed with. So when she walked in with a killer smile, Iris West was more than intimidated.

"Hi, my name's Felicity Smoak. I'm a friend of Barry's," feeling ten foot tall, team Arrow's IT girl introduced herself with a huge smile, offering her hand out to the other woman in the room after dumping her back slightly ungraciously on the floor at the end of the bed. "You're Iris, right?"

For a moment, the woman in front of her looked startled. She was pretty, with tan skin and warm eyes, hair cut around her neck in a short but interesting style, her clothing more casual than Felicity's – a white shirt and dark jeans stuffed into boots. But she paled at her entrance, staring at Felicity's outstretched hand for a good few seconds as he mouth fell open before blinking and reaching forwards to take it, stammering out, "I- er, yes! Yes, I'm Iris."

"Nice to finally meet you," Felicity said, shaking her hand quickly before releasing it and taking a seat in the chair on the opposite side of the room, on Barry's other side. She didn't ask permission to stay, as she had as much right as Iris to be there and had no intention of leaving for any reason. She sat down and looked over at Barry, who was currently lying against the pillows and moaning gently. Concerned, she looked back at Iris, who appeared to be studying her curiously, "how's he doing? Did the doctor's say anything?"

"He was awake for a little bit earlier - keeps drifting in and out of consciousness," Iris answered sadly, lips pressing into a thin line, "the doctor's say that it's a good sign; that he'll probably be fully awake in a few hours. But um, so far he's always gone almost as soon as he wakes."

"He'll be fine," Felicity said firmly, nodding her head for her own sake as much as Iris', who seemed too cut up to act anything but kind towards. She had been worried that Iris might be a total raving bitch, or tell her to get out, but the other lady just looked tired, sitting quietly in her chair. It made her easy to sympathise with, and like. Turning back to her friend, Felicity got to her feet and leaned over Barry's bed, taking a closer look at him. Tubes and wires were attached to his chest and he was very pale, his veins blue against tracing paper skin; even as she looked, he was sweating heavily, chest rising and falling too quickly. Reaching out a hand, Felicity rested it on his forehead – and pulled her hand back quickly, "he's burning up. That's not normal."

"I know," Iris said dejectedly, having tried the same thing a while before. "And his heart rate keeps shooting up impossibly high before going right back down. I don't know what it means, but-"

Felicity finished for her, "it means something."

* * *

Barry remembered little from that day: flashes of light so bright he feared he'd died; the heat . . . terrible heat all across his body in surges, the feeling that his heart was beating way too fast, and that every part of him was shaking. He felt like an earthquake was rising up and down his spine, sending his entire body into shockwaves he could not withstand.

After the pain, he remembered brief moments of consciousness; lucidity in between the blurs that were the world. The first time he woke up he saw only doctors, and his eyelids closed in seconds, too weak to stay open. Next time, it was to Detective West sitting at his bedside, looking tired under the stark lights. Barry considered him to be a second father, so when he had make a noise, the detective had rushed over and put a hand on his shoulder, telling him to stay awake. He had really tried, but Barry had felt his eyes grow heavy again as his heart raced in joy, effectively short-circuiting him as he fell once again to sleep.

The third time it was Iris who met his eyes, sleeping in the hospital chair, hair falling across her face as it crinkled up. That time, he had stayed awake a little while longer, ignoring the fact that he felt like he was on fire just to watch her. It felt like he'd been asleep for years, and that this was the first time in a long time that he had seen her. He'd fallen back to sleep more easily this time, but knew that soon he would wake for good, and that he would have to find out just what was wrong with him.

The final time he woke up, the first face he saw was Felicity Smoak. She was sitting on a chair by the bed and seemed to be talking quietly to Iris, but noticed him waking instantly and jumped to her feet, coming closer to put her hand over his comfortingly, kind smile he remember lighting up her face. Barry's heart jumped at seeing her, although not in a romantic way – he knew she would understand. Something was wrong with him, he could tell; something not normal. His body felt like it was on fire, as it some kind of invisible fire was blazing through his veins. The shaking hadn't stopped, a high-frequency buzzing meeting his ears, which it seemed only he could hear. The lightning – it must have done something. And he knew that's what Felicity worked with all the time with Oliver. They dealt with the bizarre and the dangerous. She could help.

"Fee-li-ci – ty," he croaked out, the name creaking from his dry throat in painful halves. At it, she grinned wider, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

"I'm here," Felicity said quietly, not quite believing he was really awake. "How are you feeling?"

"Fi-re," he said.

She frowned at the words, "what? What do you mean?"

"Feels . . . like – fi-re," he said, taking the effort out of him. He leaned back against the cushions and she looked even more concerned, biting her lip and sharing a look with Iris. He sighed; they couldn't understand him, not like this.

"You've got a fever, Barry," Felicity was saying, but the buzz in his head was rising to a crescendo, more painful than before. He was jolted awake quickly, sitting straight up in bed and screaming as the pain peaked, the earthquake increasing. In fear, he looked down at his hands, seeing the girls step back and watch him in his peripheral vision. His hands were shaking too, but too quickly to be normal, his eyes barely keeping up with their movement.

"What the-" he said aloud, before he screamed again in agony, Felicity taking a few steps towards him, hand outstretched. Seeing her, Barry acted instinctive to protect them, not having a clue what was going on – by removing himself from the situation. On his feet in a second, he ripped the wires holding him off and felt instantly better from standing, but was consumed with a total desire to move; to run.

So he did.

Breezing past them, he was in the corridor in what seemed like milliseconds, dashing through the waiting room and feeling as if he could just get out into the open; if he could run stretch his legs after lying on that hospital bed for months then everything would be alright. He saw the doors, then the sky – it was blue, patched with clouds, and he had missed the feeling of fresh air in his lungs. Cutting across the parking lot, he was in some sort of garden for patients around the back of the hospital, blissfully deserted and still running, when something caught around his legs and he was sent crashing to the floor. He must have been moving faster than he realized, for when he fell, it was a hard blow; the air was knocked from his chest as his cheek scraped along the grass and stones until he skidded to a stop.

"Ugh," groaning, Barry pushed himself up, spitting grass from his mouth until he was sitting, trying to see what had made him fall. At the sight he frowned in confusion: a thin wire had tangled itself around his legs in circles, a small box at the one end and a hook on the other, a piece of equipment which looked specialised and high-tech. It also looked vaguely comic-book, and he couldn't believe it was actually real as he pulled his legs free, turning to look for who had thrown it – only to see a crater where he had skidded through the garden. That wasn't possible.

"Hey!"

Hearing the shout, Barry turned with a scowl on his face and his fists up, expecting anyone who had attacked him to be looking for a fight, but was surprised to see a young girl running towards him, hands held up in peace.

"I'm not gonna hurt you!" she shouted, stopping a few feet away respectfully, "I'm Felicity's sister, Lena. I'm sorry I had to use that."

She nodded to the wire he'd discarded with a shrug, and he turned back to her. He still couldn't talk well, but managed to cough out, "You – work with the – Arrow?"

"Something like that," Lena nodded. She came closer and he let her, somehow not afraid of her, even as she picked up her discarded weapon and pressed a button on the side which instantly started to pull back in the wire, detangling it as it did. By the time it was finished, she held only a small black box, shoving it away in her bag and pulling out a bottle of water, which she handed to him, "here. You sound like you need a drink, buddy."

Barry took the bottle without thanks and practically broke the lid in his desperation to get water, guzzling down half the bottle before he even stopped for breath.

"Whoa there, you'll be sick if you drink too much at once. Slow down," Lena instructed in a cool tone, remembering her own experience after she'd woken up from injuries, when she'd drank an entire jug of water beside her bed and thrown up. She didn't want the same for him, and he listened, obediently only taking small sips before capping the bottle and turning back to her. When he did, water dripping down his chin, she smiled, "better?"

"Much, thank you," he replied, watching her carefully. When she had smiled at him, the family resemblance was unmistakable – she had Felicity's smile in all of its kindness. Eyebrow curling, he nodded to her, "you look like your sister."

Lena didn't know how to respond to that. It wasn't something that was said to her often, and she didn't see it herself: Felicity was beautiful and poised and kind, while she'd spent a lot of time being trained to appear the opposite of that. She had been taught how to look threatening; exactly what gait to walk with, facial expressions, even the exact angle of head tilt which screamed authority. Felicity was the opposite of all of that; and Lena never expected to be compared to her sister.

Seeing her face at his words, Barry wondered if he'd said something wrong, so went on, "are you going to explain why you attacked me with a . . . what is that? It didn't exactly look like the Arrow's style."

"That's 'cause it wasn't," Lena shrugged, "it's mine."

"Looks more like what that lunatic vigilante in Gotham has been using, if you ask me."

"Well, Oliver's been teaching me how to use a bow, but I didn't think you'd like it much if I shot you."

"I didn't much like being tackled to the ground!" Barry shouted, matching the younger girl's sarcasm with his own. But to his surprise she looked confused instead of angry.

"You do know how fast you were going, right?" she asked cautiously.

"Thanks for the concern, but I was perfectly fine. I was just stretching my legs – I wasn't likely to hurt myself _until you knocked me over_."

"You weren't just running fast – you were going impossibly fast," Lena said. He didn't understand the look on her face, a mixture of interest and fear as she walked a couple of steps closer, studying him with fascination. "Like, _super_humanly fast. I could barely even see you, you were just a blur."

Barry shook his head, eyes squinting, "That's insane."

"You're telling me," she snapped irritably, then softened, knowing it was best to approach him gently. "Are you telling me you don't even feel a _little_ strange since you woke up?"

"No! I mean I – I-" Barry broke off, looking at the floor as he thought about it. The fire in his body had died when he had been running, but he could feel it coming back in flashes of pain in every stationary moment. Then, as he looked down by his hand, he noticed his veins had turned a deep, blood red. Stumbling back, he brought them up to his face to look at, but even as he did so something even stranger happened – electricity pulsed between his fingers, crackling on his knuckles in little bursts of energy. Barry gasped and stepped back again, looking up to find Lena watching just as intently, so admitted, "Okay, maybe something's up."

"No shit, Sherlock," she said dryly, before taking a step forward and pushing his hand down, ignoring the pain as their hands touched from the electricity and forcing the man before her for focus instead on her. "Listen, you've got to calm down. The lightning must have done something, and whatever it is, I promise you we'll help you to figure it out."

"What if we can't?"

"We will. My sister's good at that sort of stuff: I'm guessing all we'll need is to find out what chemicals were in the room when the lighting hit, then work out what cool powers you've got. You could even be a hero, like Superman. But right now, you need to keep it in check because it's not safe. Just breathe."

After a few moments, Barry's eyes flicked closed until his breathing evened out. He felt a calm wash over him, extinguishing the fire, and he realized that whatever this was, he could control it with a little help from his friends. When he opened his eyes again, Lena was still watching him intently, the same piercing look and eyes as her sister; but when he looked down at his hand, it was normal once more. He nodded at her carefully, trusting her without question, "what do we do now?"

"Go back inside, get discharged. We'll work all this out later."

But Barry was still suspicious, "Why are you helping me?"

"Because from what I heard, you really helped out my family a while back," Lena told him honestly. "That means I owe you, and I don't take things like that lightly. It's nice to finally meet you, Barry Allen."

"You too," he nodded. The girl was strange, but he liked her – the cutting remarks and humour bounced off his own, and there was something to be said for helping a stranger. Then he straightened, looking resolute, "alright – here we go."

* * *

That was how Barry, Lena and Felicity ended up in the middle of the Midwest farmland around Central City thirteen hours later. They had managed to keep Barry calm throughout his discharge, and since all of his injuries had healed themselves, the hospital had no reason not to release him. Once Lena had walked him back inside, she had found her sister and Iris in the waiting room, looking distraught and talking to the doctors. Seeing them, Iris had launched herself at Barry and he had reciprocated, holding her in a warm hug for a few minutes. That calmed him better than anything, and she had stayed with him until they'd got him back home to Keystone, a suburb of the city where Barry lived alone in a small house.

Felicity and Lena had made a show of leaving then, in fact going to a park around the corner and waiting for Iris to leave before going back to Barry's place. He kept thanking them for being there and helping, and seemed to not quite know what to do. For years he'd read about heroes and people doing incredible things, secretly always wishing that he too could do something which mattered – and how he had superpowers. Or at least as far as they could tell, he had gained something from the lightning.

Before they had left his apartment, Felicity had got out one of her tablets and started typing furiously to hack into and scrub the security footage from the hospital. It wouldn't do any good for someone to find out about Barry, so they had to be careful to keep all of it a secret, including erasing his little run out today from the hospital cameras. Then, they had driven, and now stood in a field in the night, sky just turning indigo above them as evening took a hold of the day by the throat and squeezed it.

"So what now?" Barry asked as they stood in the cold, pulling at his jacket a little. The two girls shared a look of raised eyebrows and shrugs, before Lena pointed at the empty field in front of him.

"Run."

"Run?"

"Is there an echo?" Lena asked, making him scowl. "Yes, run. We need to see what you're capable of before anything else, for science. And also 'cause it's really freaking cool."

"Right," Barry said dryly, "as long as there's a good reason."

Without giving her time to respond and feeling smug because of it, Barry did as they asked, and ran. He felt himself speed up almost immediately, compelled by some force which told him what to do as the world tunnelled out to a sea of green and grey at his speed. It wasn't even like going in a car – it was much faster, and although he could feel his muscles pumping in his legs, he couldn't actually believe it was him doing it. Somehow, he knew exactly when to jump fences or where he roughly was. But then he decided to push it further; see how fast he could really go.

Legs working furiously, he leaned forwards into the motion, more streamline, and felt his pace pick up significantly now he was actually working for it. His whole body felt like it was vibrating again, but at speed it was more in tune with the world and the rest of him, not an odd sensation at all. The wind ripped against his clothes, and it wasn't for a while that he felt like the world was normal again – all day, everything had seemed to be moving so _slowly_.

_This_ felt like normal speed.

But then something went wrong, and looking down, Barry saw his arms were sparking, as if they were burning. And then it hurt, making him stop suddenly as his attention shifted. Then there was the cow.

Barry woke up a few seconds later, having run into a very unfortunate cow in a field and knocked himself out, flying to the fence of the pen and laying on the ground at its feet. Groaning again, he checked nothing was broken before getting unsteadily to his feet. Staring at the cow resentfully, who had got back to its feet and began munching on grass again, he held up a finger to it. "Stupid cow," he muttered, pulling out his phone and calling Felicity.

"Barry?" she asked when she picked up, "did you get lost or something?"

"Or something," he answered. There was no way he was telling them about the cow – he had a feeling Lena would never let him forget it. "I have limits – I can only go so fast before I start to burn. It's probably to do with friction, we'll have to figure something out to protect me when I'm running – a suit or something."

"Well, according to the GPS in your phone you've gone – _seventy miles_," Felicity said, sounding amazed. "You've only been gone eight minutes, that's incredible!"

"Seventy?" he echoed. That was something, alright. "I'll be back in a sec."

He was true to his word, running back up to them twelve later. He'd taken it easy on the run back, not wanting to risk it twice in a night. Barry was still going plenty fast however, and the girls cheered and clapped on his return.

"It looks like we're going to be busy the next few weeks working all of this out," Felicity commented, but looked excited at the prospect. "I mean, we'll have to go home but I can get the police reports, find out how this happened-"

"And since I only work some days, I can come up here and help you test those limits of you like," Lena offered kindly, crossing her arms over her chest. She had experienced few meta-humans personally, so Barry's new condition was intriguing to her. "What do you think you'll do now you've got these powers then?"

"I don't know," he admitted, standing still. It was a world of possibilities, but he looked back up at Felicity, nodding, "when I first met you, I learnt the cost of being a hero. But you and Oliver and Diggle save lives – I want to do that. I want to do good."

"I know you will," Felicity smiled back at him.

"And quickly too, by the looks of things," Lena added, nodding to the field, "I mean, look at you. If you move that quick nobody will be able to see you, let alone fight you – dashing around in a flash."

"Hey, I like that!" Barry said instantly laughing back at them. He made a face in approval, sure he had made a new friend that day, "'_Flash_' – it kind of has a nice ring to it."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all so much - over 100 reviews! **_the flash trailer totally nicked the end of this chapter! I was so gutted since I wrote this weeks ago with Lena giving Barry his name. Oh well. I like Barry a lot so he'll be in the fic pretty much every chapter from now on. Let me know what you think & please review._


	24. Rush

** 'Rush'**

Oliver met Felicity as she stepped off the train from Central City. He had been waiting on the platform for over ten minutes, leaning against the wall and ignoring the looks of passengers waiting for trains. Keeping his eyes on the tunnel, he waited with the light was reflected in them as the train appeared from the darkness, pulling up to the platform in seconds with a smooth stop. Oliver leaned up from the wall, looking both ways as he had no idea which carriage Felicity was on. But when she stepped off on his left, heavy bag on her shoulder and looking around, relieved to be home again, he saw her right away and ran to her side.

Felicity was only aware of stepping off the train one second, and Oliver's hands in her hair the next, as he leaned down to her, making her laugh and duck her head out of his direction. When he looked put out at that, she glanced around the platform and nodded to the people around them. "People are looking," she said quietly, "not that I mind, but _you_ should."

"Why would I care?"

"Because you're Oliver Queen and this will end up in the papers!"

"Let it," Oliver grinned, then sobered at the nervous look on her face, moving his own closer to hers to talk quietly only to her, "people are going to find out eventually, one way or another. I'm happy to be with you, to hell with anyone who says anything about it!"

She looked conflicted at that, eyes flicking up to his face and crinkling._ Damn_, Oliver was a smooth talker. Slowly, she reached down and took his hand in her free one, which only made him grin wider. "Right, let's go."

"Come on, Felicity," he said playfully, tilting his head. "We might as well give them something to really talk about."

Before she could say anything, he had put their lips together and kissed her in the middle of the platform. When he pulled back, grabbing her bag in his hand to carry it for her, Felicity made a noise of protest. Shoving him in the chest, she shook her head exasperatedly and began to walk away, hearing Oliver laugh before running to catch up with her.

"You jerk," she hissed when he was in earshot, hearing the people around them bursting into whispers. Felicity walked with her head purposefully up at that, refusing to be ashamed even if they gossiped, which Oliver noticed, leaning over her shoulder conspiratorially.

"You're still smiling."

Felicity could only smile wider at that. Months ago, scenes like this would only happen in her head. Now she and Oliver were not only together in private, but he didn't seem bothered at all by showing the world. To make him lean away, she twisted her head and pecked his cheek once, as they walked out of the train station and back into Starling. It wasn't until they were outside that he stopped dead in his tracks, looking at her again.

"Wait. Where's your sister?"

* * *

"You know Thea's going to kill you for not being here tonight?" Roy said down the phone as he sat on the couch. He was home, which wasn't the safest of places anymore with the Glades getting worse and worse, but he had always insisting on staying in the same place. Oliver had offered him money to get a place out of the glades, but Roy had turned him down on principle and because of all the memories there – Thea standing at his door asking for her purse back being one of them. Nah, he'd take his little place over anywhere else, any day.

"Yeah," Lena said on the other end. She, on the other hand, was sitting on the counter in Barry Allen's kitchen, as he had offered for her to sleep on his sofa for a few days while Felicity went home to try and work out what had happened to him. The computers in the Foundry were much safer and more equipped for her to work from, so she had gone home, leaving Lena behind as a liaison of information and to keep an eye on her friend. Not that she minded staying behind – a change of scenery for a few days might help her to forget some things and learn others – she was fascinated by Barry's new speed. She'd met meta-humans before, but nothing like this. "But I'm sure you'll manage to eat nachos without me."

"You know that's not why she'll be pissed."

"What? It's not like I'm trying to set you up this time. Sin will be there as a buffer, and I'm sure you're old enough now to sit with a pretty girl and not make an ass of yourself. Well, not a complete ass, anyway."

"Thanks, thanks a lot," Roy nodded sarcastically, blowing air out of his mouth. "That isn't the point anyway – why are you staying? Come home."

"The guy's just got super speed, we can't leave him alone right now," Lena explained, tone measured, "and if he becomes some hero with it, then we've gained an ally, haven't we? We could use some, especially if Slade ever comes back."

"Slade's not the one_ you've_ got to worry about."

"Don't," Lena said suddenly, sitting up straight. She heard Roy sigh on the other end. "I told you everything, don't you hold that over me. I'm fine."

"You've been saying that for weeks," Roy said. He hadn't wanted her to go at all – it had only been two weeks since the party, and he could still see what had happened weighing her down every day. He hadn't wanted to let her out of his sight, worried about how she would cope alone. "I still don't believe you."

"Have a little faith, Roy."

"_Lena_-"

"I've got to go. Talk to you later, Speedy," she said casually, using the nickname she knew he hated most. It was just enough to silence Roy long enough for her to end the call. On the other end, Roy threw his phone onto the couch next to him angrily; suddenly his place seemed a lot less friendly.

* * *

Sara Lance walked into a coffee shop in the centre of the city and looked around for her sister. She and Laurel had been trying to meet up a few times a week recently, and this shop had become one of their favourites – the coffee was good and the cookies were even better. Seeing her sister in their usual seat, a booth in the corner, Sara walked over to find Laurel staring at a report. Typical, her sister never seemed to stop working. Without a word, Sara closed the report in her hands, making Laurel look up.

"Hey-"

"No work, that's our deal," Sara said loudly. She looked at her sister pointedly until Laurel shook her head and allowed herself a small smile.

"Fine," she relented, throwing up her hands as she took the file and put it in her bag, "the work's going away. It's just that was a really important case."

"It can wait for an hour. The world doesn't end because you take a break, Laurel."

"It doesn't get saved by doing nothing, either," the older sister replied. "But you're right, this is our time. Coffee?"

"I already ordered for us," Sara answered as she took her seat casually, swinging into the booth and leaning on the table with her elbows. She picked up the menu and skimmed it for anything new; becoming bored quickly as their drinks came, thanking the waitress before taking a sip of her Americano. Then she looked back at Laurel, who was pointlessly stirring her drink instead of actually drinking it. Sara frowned, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Laurel smiled falsely, looking up. "What have you been up to this week?"

"Just the usual, working at the club," Sara said, already bored of the topic. God, without things to fight at night Starling was becoming dull. But she didn't want to talk about that – there was something she'd been meaning to speak about with Laurel for weeks. "Listen, can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"At Thea's party I saw you a few times. But every time I did, you were standing on the side of the room on your own. I mean, I sat with you for a while, and you talked to people, but you didn't seem to be really there. You didn't dance with a single person, although I saw people ask. Why did you isolate yourself?"

At her sister's words, Laurel looked shocked. She didn't think anyone had noticed. Thinking about her answer, she busied herself with stirring in yet another sugar into her coffee to buy time; it was about the eighth, and her drink would be way too sweet by now, not that she really noticed what she was doing. Sara's eyes watched her intently from across the table, especially when Laurel finally spoke, "I thought about it. Dancing with people, I mean – it was a party and I knew I should at least try to be sociable. But every time I even thought about dancing with another man, memories of dancing with Tommy at parties just came into my head, and I couldn't do it."

"You still miss him," Sara said quietly. It wasn't a question exactly, but there was one in her words.

Laurel nodded, finally meeting her sister's eyes again, "every day. I thought it would get easier, and then as you know, I started drinking. For a while that made me forget . . . but now I'm back again, I know I'll never forget. It just hits me some nights that I'll never get another moment like that with him."

"Doesn't mean you can't have moments," Sara said softly. "They might not be with him, but you can still be happy. With family. With friends. You're not alone, Laurel, not ever. He wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life alone, not even if it's alone with his memory. I remember Tommy Merlyn from when we were younger and he always used to hang out with you and Oliver, and he was the soul of any party. He always laughed, and appreciated life as it was, as imperfect as it may have been. He'd want you to keep on living like that."

"It just feels too soon. Like I'm rushing to get over him."

"No one's telling you to rush," Sara said, "we're asking you to _try_."

The words were true. Sara, as always, had got Tommy's personality spot on. He had been like that, and remembering his laugh actually made Laurel smile that day. She had loved him a lot. Her lips curved upwards as she spoke, looking into her drink but seeing his face, "You're right. People keep telling me that, and I know - I know they're all right, and Tommy wouldn't want this and that I should move on. I know. But I can't, it's not that easy. People, they uh, they always thought Oliver was the love of my life. They're wrong. It was him, it was Tommy. And I'm trying."

"I know you are. But you've got to start living, too."

"Next time there's a party, you pick a guy and I'll dance with him," Laurel said, finally looking back up at her sister. Sara looked concerned, finally understanding a lot of things about her sister, and nodded once. Then Laurel laughed, "Just try not to pick a total Jerk, okay? I know your taste in men."

"Hey!" Sara laughed, almost spitting out her own drink. Their conversation took a joking, lighter turn from there, as they sat in their little booth for almost two hours just talking. A lot more things made sense to Sara now, about her sister and how the city had been in her absence. She was sorry she had never got to see them together; she pictured Laurel had been very happy for those months.

Laurel was also glad they had spoken. The words were true, and rang in her ears for weeks. She still thought of Tommy every time she laughed, or made the joke he would have, but instead of making her sad; it gave her hope. She liked to think he would be proud of her, wherever he was now.

* * *

When Barry Allen walked into his kitchen and found a teenager sitting on his countertop, ending a phone call as he walked in, he frowned. Standing at the table in the room as he pulled himself the milk out of the fridge and drank it straight from the bottle, he frowned at her, "make yourself at home."

"Oh, I already have," Lena answered bluntly, smiling brightly at him.

Rolling his eyes, Barry said, "you know what, I take it back. You're not like your sister."

"I agree: I'm much more fun."

"I was thinking more irritating," Barry said, trying not to laugh at the face she made in response. Putting the milk away, he pulled on a blue jacket and motioned for her to follow him, "come on, we're going to the lab."

"Why?"

"Research. I want to look for a material which can withstand high speeds, so I don't burn up when I'm running," he answered as they got outside, locking the door behind him. Central was nothing like Gotham or Starling when it came to crime, but bad things still happened. They walked to his car, an old red ford, and got in.

"So you're still considering being a superhero, then?" Lena asked as she sat in the passenger seat, clicking in her seatbelt. Beside her, Barry paused for a moment, hands stiffening on the steering wheel.

"I just know that I can't just ignore something like this. I've been given something which could save people, and I go back to my life now it makes me a coward."

"No, it doesn't. You don't owe the world anything, Barry. It's a shitty place and it ain't being saved any time soon," Lena said, her bitterness surprising him. There was no one left for her to keep up an image for, and since the night of the party, things had been catching up to her, things she'd sooner forget. She was tired, and leaned against the window, one hand on her head, as she spoke to him.

Barry sat up at her words, not understanding. "How can you say that?" he asked. "You go out there with Oliver, don't you? You act like a hero – why shouldn't I?"

"Because you don't need redemption," she answered truthfully, "not yet. But if you're in . . . there will come a time when you'll face a decision you can't make. When you'll have to do something you know is wrong to save someone you love. And you have hope, right now, in heroes. When that day comes you'll lose all of that, and you'll understand why I'm telling you now to walk away."

For a few minutes, they sat still in the unmoving car, silence stretching between them. Barry thought about her words carefully, mulling them over in his mind. It was true that he had little idea what he was getting into; from what he'd seen in Starling, trying to be a hero just got people bloody. Oliver had almost _died_. But he also still had faith that humanity was worth saving. "I can't just walk away. I was given an opportunity to really make a difference and besides – Central doesn't have a protector, and people have been suffering since the StarLab explosion. They could use a little hope."

Lena smiled a little, "I didn't expect anything different."

"Then why say anything at all?"

"Because when the day comes when you understand what I meant by all of that, I want you to come and find me," she answered, finally looking over. For someone so young, she had little hope in her eyes. "That's a day you really become a hero, and you shouldn't be alone."

"What did you do?" Barry finally asked. He looked at her strangely; even Oliver had more hope than her. He made a mental note to ask Felicity if her sister was okay. Whatever had happened to make her lose her faith, like she was talking about, it must have been something big. "When did you get so old?"

She laughed a little at that, "the first time I met a meta-human like yourself."

"Meta-human?"

"Person with powers," she explained, "not everyone uses them for good. Maybe you can level the playing field – so what are you going to be called?"

"I think I'm sticking with 'Flash'" Barry answered with a smile, the conversation returning to better ground. At that, Lena flat out laughed, the life coming back to her eyes as she did, and suddenly she wasn't the tired veteran of the world she had been a few minutes ago, but a laughing teenager again.

"Seriously?"

"What, it's catchy!"

"But what am I supposed to call you now?" Lena laughed, "You can't have a nickname you like! The whole point of them is that people hate them!"

Barry rolled his eyes, finally starting the car and saying dryly, "I'm sure you'll think of something."

* * *

"So Barry 'looks like a twelve year old and wants to save the world' Allen has got super-speed and wants to be a hero now?" Oliver asked incredulously as he stood in the Foundry, hands in his pockets. Felicity had just finished telling them all about her trip, including Barry's new skills and that she'd promised to help him, but made a face at her boyfriend's comment.

"Really, Oliver?" she said disapprovingly, "name calling is childish."

"Has he got a name yet?" Oliver asked instead, almost smiling at being told off. She was adorable when she did that. "I mean, I know the press usually dub us when we start taking people out, but has he thought of anything himself?"

"The Flash," Felicity answered, frown turning into a smile. "Lena said it and he liked it – they're working on a suit that can withstand the friction of his running right now. All I have to do is find out what chemicals caused the reaction."

"Some reaction," Diggle commented. "Was he really that fast?"

"He moved so fast you couldn't even see him, he was just a blur."

"Do you think it's reversible?"

"Why would he want to reverse it?" Felicity asked, "You heard him speak about the Arrow before – a chance like this is all he's ever wanted. I think he'll be a good hero."

"Me too," Oliver answered honestly. The truth was that he couldn't fault the kid – he was smart, had a strong moral compass, and helped people for the hell of it. If Barry was half as good a hero as he was a man, then Central City was in safe hands. He smiled at Felicity, who nodded gratefully back, "Here's to him. If we can call the Flash a friend in times of need, I think we're going to be just fine."

* * *

**A/N:** _so a few people have suggested that I give Lena some kind of powers, would that be an idea people want? There's two more chapters with Barry now, which I didn't really intend to write but happened anyway because I love him. Sorry not sorry. Big things coming, as the first 'arc' of this story is coming to a close. please keep reviewing! _


	25. Red lightning and arrowheads

**'Red lightning and arrowheads'**

The first week flew by.

On the third day, Barry spent the morning in a field with Lena. She held a stopwatch, and they timed how fast it took him to run a mile, then two, then twenty. The results were impressive to say the least. The last time they tried, she simply told him to run as fast as he could.

When he got back a minutes later, sending wind all about them both in a flurry from the speed at which he stopped, Barry's shirt clung to his chest with sweat, and he felt like something big had happened. They'd been doing the same thing for the past three days, building his speed up and up, but he was fairly certain he'd never run that fast before.

Blonde hair flying about her face, Lena grinned up at him. "Congratulations, Mr. Allen. You just broke the sound barrier."

"What?" Barry spluttered out, before laughing aloud. Head thrown back in a loud cheer, he whooped and jumped about on the balls of his feet. The rush he felt right then was incredible. "That can't be right. No, that's too . . ."

He had no words to actually describe his feelings, making her smirk, "That's one way to put it - you have such a way with words." Then she nodded at his coat, now only in remnants on his back, arms completely gone, "but you're gonna need a new jacket."

"Right, we have to fix that. I ordered some material yesterday which should come soon, I was thinking about designing it into some sort of uniform," he explained sheepishly, "it's made closely concentrated polymer fibres so it's dense enough to withstand the friction, but the material they combine it with is really light, so it won't weigh me down."

"Exciting," she said in reply, raising her eyebrows, "I know you've only been out of commission for a few months, sleeping beauty, but you know you can't rush into this, right? The world's a dangerous place, and if you go running about in a costume with no training you're gonna get hurt."

"Sleeping beauty?"

She tilted her head to the side, smiling sweetly at him, "deal with it."

"What do you suggest?"

"That we spent tomorrow teaching you how to at least throw a punch and defend yourself, and _then_ you start designing a super-suit."

Barry looked thoughtful at that for a minute before nodding in agreement, "I suppose you're right. It won't do me any good if I mange to break my hand trying to punch someone on the first day of the job. Are you trained enough to teach me?"

Lena rolled her eyes, "more than you know. Are you ready to learn?"

"Born ready," Barry grinned, still jumping about a little. He was pumped, and needed to cool down. So when Lena started laughing immediately at his words, he stopped suddenly.

"Did you seriously just say that? My god, you are a geek. We're going to have to work on your trash-talking to bad guys, too."

"Shut up," he laughed back, speeding over to punch her in the shoulder.

"Ow! what the hell?"

"How bad is my punching now?" Barry asked cockily, laughing. It was a mistake, as a second later she had seized him by the forearm, lifting him and sending him sprawling to the grass in the blink of an eye. With how slowly the world moved for him, he saw every fraction of it in clear detail, including the moment when his back hit the grass and Lena's face grinned above him. Damn it, if he'd been floored in two seconds by a teenager, he really didn't stand a chance out there yet. Maybe she had a point about training him first.

From the floor, Barry sighed. He had a long way to go before he was a hero.

* * *

Back at Starling, Felicity managed to hack the police reports on Barry's accident – including the crime scene analysis. They had swabbed the chemicals that had been present at the accident, keeping samples of each in the Central City archives. She'd arranged to have them moved to a new location – aka the Foundry. It was a closed case, so she doubted anyone would even notice they were gone.

What she needed to do now was find out exactly what the chemicals were. From what she could see in the crime scene photos, it had been such a mess when the cops had got there that they couldn't tell what was what anymore, the cupboards overturned and several glass chemical jars smashed all over the place. There were only a few ways of finding out which of the chemicals had got onto him, which she would need his blood for, but before she could tell what was in his blood, she needed to know what was in the room.

Even the police hadn't been able to separate and identify the chemicals on the floor – but they didn't have her skill, or her computers. She loaded the sample onto the computer within a few hours of it arriving, three days after she'd got home from Central City, and it began to run a programme to isolate each component. Only once that was done would she need a sample of Barry's blood.

But unfortunately, it would take a minimum of twelve hours to run the chemical sample, four of which were already gone and she was getting bored. It was the middle of the day, so the Foundry was empty apart from her. For another forty minutes she pointlessly searched the web on one of her tablets – and choked when a picture of her and Oliver at the train station showed up on a tabloid website.

"I was wondering if you'd seen that yet," said just the man, appearing from behind her to lean on the back of her chair with a grin.

"Where did you come from?"

"Relax, I just got here," he laughed easily, one hand resting on her shoulder, which she leaned into. "So, what do you think? Feel like a celebrity yet?"

She sniggered at that, "I'm in the news, and it's not for being arrested. That's something I suppose. Don't we look cute?" Showing him the pictures, one of them walking and one of them kissing, she put on a high voice and bounced around in an irritating manner as she spoke like a gossipy girl, "I mean, the billionaire and the IT girl? It's like some cheap romance novel. Forbidden office love. I mean seriously, we are way to cliché at the moment; we really need to work on this image. I wonder if next time we go out we'll make the papers!"

Oliver laughed at her joking, the sarcasm in her voice betraying how uncomfortable she really felt about the whole thing. Putting both of his hands on her shoulders, he rubbed them now, feeling her relax as she sat.

"It won't always be like this, I promise," he said, just thinking aloud. He liked holding her, and looking off into the distance, he wanted to be completely honest with her. "I'm not saying people won't talk – they will. But I promise that I will never care what anyone says - apart from you, of course."

"No, it's not that," Felicity tried to explain, shaking her head. "I'm so happy to be with you. I could shout it from the rooftops and spray paint it on every wall in the city and it still wouldn't be enough to show how completely, absolutely full of joy I am to look at you and see you look back in the same way. But my life has always been simple. I'm just a Coast girl, even being in the city was a big deal for me – and now my life is something everyone sees? That's crazy. I like my time with you . . . but in private. I don't like feeling like I'm under a microscope with the whole world looking in."

"Welcome to my life," Oliver grinned. "It sucks. But I always thought . . ."

When he trailed off, Felicity pushed, "What?"

"Nothing, it's stupid."

"Oliver Queen," she turned on her chair to face him, face playfully stern, "you finish that sentence. Right now."

He laughed, finding it harder now he was facing her. It was easier to dream with eyes closed, but looking at her, he suddenly became embarrassed, head turning down and his cheeks going red. But reluctantly, Oliver continued, "I um, I always thought that one day I might get away from all of this. There was always this idea in the back of my mind that one day, the city would be safe, and my family would be happy, so I could just hang up the hood. For good. I thought I'd just disappear knowing what I cared about most was safe - that I'd done some good. And when that day came, I always figured I'd find some faraway place in some country where nobody had even heard the name 'Oliver Queen', maybe somewhere with a warm beach and just . . . settle down. So I could live out what was left of my days in peace. I thought I'd go alone, but uh, now I have you . . . if you'd like to come with me?"

Felicity didn't know what to say to that. She knew she was staring at him, mouth slightly ajar, but was too busy processing what she had just heard to do anything about it. Oliver's face had been strange as he'd spoken, a small smile threatening to take over his face but never quite winning; he had been so open with her, exposing something as precious as his dreams that she couldn't quite believe it. He claimed to care about her, and when she woke up with his arms around her she was starting to believe it was true, but she had never expected him to be so honest with her. Not with something like this.

She realized she'd been quiet for too long when he began to look uncomfortable, getting to her feet and putting her hand on his cheek. Still with a look of disbelief on her face, she cupped his face in her hands, leaning into him and smiling.

"I would love to come away with you one day," she said kindly, "I've always wanted something I would die for. An adventure; something to define my existence, something to leave a sign I was here at all. I found that in this team and the work we do; in you. And when I was really little, my mother used to drop these little bits of wisdom on us. I tried my best to live by them, and one of them was: it doesn't matter _where_ you go, but _who_ you go with. I believe in that still, and there is nowhere I wouldn't follow you."

It was Oliver's turn to look surprised. Felicity never spoke about her mother and her words were enough to send his heart into overdrive. He held her back now, putting his forehead against hers as he smiled, kissing her softly twice before he spoke, "your mother sounds like a very wise woman."

"She was," Felicity said, remembering the woman who had raised her, not the deteriorating one she had left behind, "I wish you'd have got to meet her. But you're my family now."

"Don't let Lena hear you say that, I think she'd kill me," Oliver laughed softly. Detaching himself from her, he stood alone, a sense of relief passing through him. He had felt stupid, telling her his hidden dream, but Felicity had made him feel human again. She didn't laugh for a second, but agreed in a heartbeat, and he loved her for it. So much. It was written all over his face as he held out an arm to her, "if we've got time to kill before that's done, then miss Smoak, would you be kind enough to accompany me to dinner? We've got to give the press something new to talk about – we have an image now, after all."

He grinned, and she smiled back at his joke, looping her arm through his as they walked out of the Foundry. "Why Mr. Queen, it would be my pleasure."

* * *

Barry spent most of the next few days getting his ass thoroughly kicked. He had found an abandoned barn a few fields away from where they'd been training him to run, so he and Lena had moved some hay to form a cushion on the floor to prevent too many injuries, and in three minutes she had been throwing him around.

To his credit, he learned quickly, something about his accelerated muscle speed also improving the capacity of his muscle memory. After being shown a move just once or twice, he found he could repeat it instantly and easily, and soon he was getting payback for her throwing him around. Once he had the basics covered, Lena showed him a few choice moved and, deciding he needed some practical experience, announced that they were having a fistfight.

Then she had proceeded to kick his ass for another three hours in a free fight, leading them around the barn and not playing by any particular rules. Now there was the element of unpredictability, Barry was on unstable ground as she came at him from every angle she could think of, until he eventually learned to anticipate her fighting style and very quickly think of a way to defend himself against her attacks. Sure, Lena changed tactics and styles so fast he could barely keep up, but by the time they were finished he could hold her off well enough to earn her approval. On the seventh night she stayed with him, he was almost ready.

That night they'd driven back to his place exhausted and sweating, Lena calling dibs on first shower and disappearing as soon as they got in, leaving Barry on his own in his living room. He liked that kid, a paternal instinct he never knew he had coming out in him, even though she looked after him a lot more than the other way around. She was smarter than she thought she was, her humour almost making him forget about the haunted look in her eyes when she'd warned him about the life he was choosing. Almost. He still worried what the hell had made her that way, but knew asking would probably just earn him a broken nose.

So when she'd come back down, he had smiled up at her, trying to show his gratitude for all of her help in an expression. But her face froze as she looked at something over his shoulder, and Barry turned to see the headlines on the news on the TV behind him. Turning up the volume, she leaned on the back of the couch he sat on as they listened to the report. It was about a bank robbery in progress in the city, with armed thieves having hostages inside. Once it had finished, they both looked up at one another at the same moment.

"You ready to be a hero?" Lena asked, and she took him getting to his feet confidently as an answer. Facing her, eyes blazing, she had a sudden respect for Barry Allen, and nodded to the suit they'd made the day before. It was lying on the couch, just waiting to be used. With a smile, she announced, "Then suit up, sleeping beauty."

"I really hate that nickname," he pointed out, grabbing the suit from its place.

"Do you prefer 'Sparky'? That was my second choice, on account of the whole lightning thing."

"It's marginally better. Marginally," Barry admitted, walking towards the staircase to quickly change, "are you going to be alright while I'm out?"

"While you're out?" Lena echoed, shaking her head as she made a face. "Oh no, I'm coming with you, rookie. There's no way you're going on your first mission alone."

"Oliver will kill me if I let you come and something happens!"

"Then don't mess up and let anything happen," she shouted back as he ran upstairs, grabbing her own disguises – the dark leather jacket she always wore when she was on patrol and a dark wig to hide her hair. She shrugged it on, pulling the hood over her head to hide her face and grabbed the spare bow she had brought with her from her bag, clipping it onto the harness they'd designed on her back. By the time Barry returned, she was just as ready as he was in his red uniform, lighting striped across the chest of it. He looked like a hero, but whether he'd live up to that image was still to be seen. When he walked in, she smiled, "wow, very sexy. You've really got the whole spandex cyclist vibe going on there."

"Shut up," he laughed, shaking his head. "You can hardly talk – none of you people seem to have a clue about how to hide! I thought Oliver was bad, but you literally just look like you're going out; you're wearing a jacket and jeans, for god's sake. I guess I'll have to make you a mask, too."

"Really?" she asked, suddenly excited, "that would be awesome. But times wasting – we have a robbery to stop. Well, you do. This is something you need to do by yourself, but I'm going to be right behind you watching in case anything happens. Consider me your shadow."

Barry nodded. It suddenly all felt very real, but he swallowed down the brief panic which seized him, looking right back at her. She might look like a casually dressed one, but _she_ was a hero. He was green, and nerves were normal, even when he strongly suspected he would throw up if he didn't move quickly. But he pushed it away.

"Let's go."

* * *

But Oliver and Felicity only made it upstairs, to the bar of Verdant, before they were stopped in their tracks. At the bar, leaning against the counter and sipping a drink coolly, was Thea. When they appeared from the shadows of the club, she only hooked an eyebrow.

"I won't even ask what you two were doing back there."

Oliver looked between Felicity, who was panicking, and his sister, "Thea-"

"Were you going to tell me? Or was it the plan to let me find out on the news?" Thea demanded, standing up straight and walking towards them. None of them had been too shocked to see Oliver and Felicity in the tabloids, as most of their friends and family had suspected a romance between the two growing for some time, but she was hurt they didn't tell her right away. She deserved that. Hand on her hip, she glared at them for a moment, before Oliver put his arm around the other woman and tried to smile at her.

"We would have told you, but the truth was we didn't want anyone to know yet. We knew that because of who I am, people were always going to talk, so we tried to keep things as private as possible, at least for a while. I'm sorry you found out that way," Oliver said smoothly, keeping his arm around Felicity the entire time. Thea softened a little, but still glared as he went on. "I can only hope you're as supportive with this as you are a sister."

"Compliments will get you nowhere," Thea replied to the last part of the sentence. Then her frostiness thawed as she smiled brightly at them both, walking forwards even more until she was close enough to touch them. "But I am really happy for you. Although next time – just tell me. If I'm going to gain family," she looked at Felicity now, who tried to smile back, "I'd like to know about it beforehand, so I have time to prepare a party or a speech."

They laughed at that, Felicity mouthing her thanks to the younger girl, who nodded back. Eventually, Thea looked at them again, "were you guys coming in or out?"

"Out," Felicity supplied, "we were just going to grab a bite. To eat."

Thea looked curious for a second, but then made a decision in her head. "Right, well if you'd like you could come out with me, Roy and Sin instead? We go out every Saturday for Mexican, usually with your sister, but she's ditched us this week. The place is fantastic, and since I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other now, it would be nice if you came. I'd like it if you did."

"I er . . ." Felicity trailed off, looking to Oliver, who shrugged. All he wanted was food right then.

"Any opportunity to spend some time with my two favourite girls," he smiled, putting his free arm around Thea as they all began to walk out of the dark club.

"Should we invite Dig and Sara?" Felicity asked, "I don't want them to think we left them out."

"I'll text them," Oliver told her.

"Wait," Thea said loudly, glaring at them again, "did they know before me? They did, didn't they! I don't believe you two – what happened to family first?"

"You're my family," her brother told her, laughing, "but they are too. Plus, you can't hide anything from Diggle. He finds out everything."

"It's true," Felicity nodded vigorously, "the man's like a human lie detector."

"Right, so this is a family dinner now," Thea said, swinging her arms as they got to the car, letting her brother sit by his new girlfriend while she sat in the front seat and watched them in the mirror. He was holding Felicity's hand as they sat, trying to be subtle about it, but she saw and held back a smile. "Where is Lena anyway? Roy said she wasn't in Starling, but she never misses Mexican night. Her and Roy started the damn thing."

"She's in Central visiting some friends," Felicity said. It was the official lie they'd been giving to anyone who asked, and when she had talked to her sister on the phone it didn't sound far from the truth; it sounded like Lena and Barry were having a lot of fun testing his speed, and got on like a house on fire. She wondered if that would mean another person added to their family before long, and didn't mind the thought of Barry being family one bit. "She'll be home soon."

"I hope so. I'm going to have to kick her ass for ditching us."

Felicity laughed, "Go ahead. She's tougher than you think."

* * *

Little did they know that at that moment, Barry and Lena were entering a dark bank; the Flash sped through the front door in a blur to disarm a man before he could even blink. This was his time it was his fight. The first mission was one of the hardest things people ever had to do as a hero; outranked only by the first death – and the first kill.

But neither were likely to happen tonight, in Barry's crucible to see if he was up for the job. He stood more than a snowball's chance, and zipped around the back like a red blur, a flash of scarlet.

Unlike his direct approach, the girl came in the back door silently, not even seen as he began his mission. Resting on a higher level of the back, perched on a bar overlooking the scene as he raced about, Lena notched an arrow to aim, ready to strike if she was needed, but knowing this was Barry's test, not hers. So she focused, but muttered under her breath, "Good luck, Rookie. Don't you dare get killed."

* * *

**A/N:** _So the response to this story has been phenomenal, thank you. Remember to let me know yes or no to Lena getting superpowers. I like the Oliver and Felicity scene here, actually. Keep reviewing! And also let me know what DCU characters you'd like to see appear, especially with the Batfamily. I know who I intend to include, but let me know who you'd like to see! Keep reviewing, as always. _


	26. First fight

**'First fight'**

Things went well for the first five minutes. Barry sped in through the front door and zipped around the lines of robbers, snatching their guns right out of their hands before dumping them in the corner of the room. They were all high-class rifles – AK 47's with long distance ranges. Of course, he did all of this in about six seconds, before any of them had chance to react. It was only when he stopped the throw the guns uselessly away, emptying them of their bullets as his hands sped across them that he heard the shouting.

"What the hell?"

"Who-"

"There!" one voice shouted above the rest, probably the leader. His eyes were drawn to one man in the confusion, dressed in all black Kevlar and standing in the middle of the fray. He was pointing to Barry, who stood in front of the pile of guns, "the freak - kill him!"

Before he knew it, several of the robbers had pulled concealed handguns from their persons and were shooting at him. There were six men in total, four of which were armed, all of which Barry calculated in milliseconds, as the bullets coming towards him might as well have been moving in slow motion; in his adrenaline rush, he was moving faster than he ever had before. He was ten feet away from where they were shooting before the bullets even hit the wall.

Barry chose the shooter nearest to him first, dodging the bullets coming towards him as he moved in a blur towards the man, jumping as he reached there and brining his fist down on the man's face in a punch. Dropping like a sack of potatoes, Barry watched the man fall and was secretly glad for getting his ass kicked for the past three days – turns out, it was worth it. At least he could throw a decent punch now.

He systematically took out the next three guys with varying degrees of difficulty, having to actually fight at some points, but his blows were fluid and easy; his footwork even better. With a series of practised moves, he knocked five of the men unconscious without too much trouble, leaving them on the floor for the police to round up later. Not that they would be moving anytime soon; they never stood a chance against his speed.

"Who are you?" asked the final man, the leader who had spoken before. He looked at Barry with a mixture of fascination and disgust. "_What_ are you?"

"I'm the Flash. And I'm going to be around from now on, which means Central City is protected - tell your friends." Barry said calmly and loudly, hoping the hostages might hear. One thing he wanted to avoid was being branded a vigilante and hunted like Oliver was – being seen as a hero was better. "In fact, tell anyone who will listen that from now on, this city is off limits. It's been on the edge for too long, and I will pull it back. And you'll never see me coming."

"One man cannot save a city," the robber spat, facing Barry now. "You will fail."

"Maybe I will," Flash laughed, "but you already have. It's over."

"That's what you think-" the man moved quickly, but Lena was quicker. Even as he reached to throw the knife at Barry she had let loose an arrow, which pierced his sleeve and sent him to the floor, trapped by it, as the knife scraped across the floor. Barry stepped forwards and sent his fist slamming down into the man's jaw, leaving him unconscious. It was over: they were all disarmed and the hostages were safe.

"Thank you . . . arrow-girl," Barry shouted up into the shadows, not knowing what else to call Lena. As far as he knew, she had no name, and he could hardly shout her real one at a crime scene. Although he heard a faint scoff from above at that, he had no time to think on it; they'd agreed that when he was done they would both get out and meet at a rendezvous point a few streets away. Trusting Lena would get out fine on her own, Barry simply looked around once at his work, nodded kindly to a few of the hostages, who were now getting nervously to their feet and looking at him. Some looked suspicious, some afraid, some reverent, but Barry knew it would be a hard task to convince the people of the city that he was on their side.

He sped away, leaving a chaos in his wake; Barry Allen missed the slow, but building, applause that followed his exit.

* * *

It took three days instead of twelve hours for the analysis of the chemicals to be separated, most of which Felicity spent in the Foundry. The others would stop by every few hours, usually with takeout or asking her to go home to rest: Sara brought Chinese food, Diggle Indian, Oliver burgers and fries, and even Roy stopped by to give her a sandwich one lunch time. By the end of the three days, Felicity was fed up of takeout food.

The conversations were always fun, people drifting in to see her day and night. Oliver usually stayed the longest, but waiting on the results gave her chance to catch up with Sara and Diggle, who stayed for hours at a time to just talk. There was no one really to fight with Slade gone, crime in the city was down to its lowest point in years, and Felicity was enjoying it. She liked how the sound of Oliver's footsteps on the staircase still filled her with excitement, and she liked it even more when he greeted her with kisses and soft words. She was still thrilled to see him, still his best friend, still his girl. Life was pretty damn sweet.

"You should be asleep," Diggle said sternly, walking in followed by Oliver. They both looked pleased to see her, Oliver dropping a kiss on her forehead before standing behind her, but Diggle looked concerned. "Have you been home at all today?"

"I stopped by to shower this morning," she shrugged him off. She didn't mind waiting here one bit, in all honesty - without QC to work at, she had been getting bored with nothing to do in the daytime, so it was nice to be productive. The Foundry was a second home to her, and she could think of no better company than her family. "I'm fine, really. What have you guys been up to?"

"Nothing interesting," Diggle sighed. "The results back yet?"

"I actually think it's nearly done," she said, gesturing to the computer. It showed a series of screens of various chemical and compound analysis which made no sense to either of the men in the room. "You see here?" she pointed to one of the screens, "there are only two unknown variables left. Once it's separated those two, we'll know exactly what was in the room when Barry went boom."

"And then all we need is a sample of his blood to see which of these chemicals are in him," Oliver finished, sparing her a smile. "Good work. If it's nearly done, why don't you call Lena, tell her and Barry to come here tomorrow?"

"Good idea."

"You might want to turn on the news first," said a voice, and they all turned to see Sara running down the stairs. She nodded to the computer, so Felicity immediately turned to a website streaming the local news – but there was nothing. But Sara explained, "Not the local news – national."

"Oh," Felicity said, immediately widening her search until she found the right site. It was a live stream of the news, but she turned up the volume a little so they could all hear. It was a report about a foiled bank robbery in Central City. Even as they watched, fuzzy videos of a red blur showed up on screen, too fast for the eye to see.

"Is that Barry?" Diggle asked, leaning forwards to see.

"I told you he was fast," Felicity replied. "But shhhh, I want to hear what they have to say."

"_Sources from inside tell us that a masked hero disarmed six of the men inside the bank before freeing the hostages. Although the vigilante left without official comment to the press or police, several of the hostages claim he named himself as 'Flash' and declared that he was going to eradicate crime in the city. They also say he received help from an unseen accomplice, who shot one of the assailants with an arrow before fleeing the scene_." A reporter on the screen said the words calmly, not knowing what effect it was having on the people gathered in the Foundry. Seeing who it was, Felicity gasped.

"That's Iris!"

"What?" Oliver asked.

"Barry's . . . friend – she's someone to him. She was at the hospital the day he got out!" Felicity explained, "I knew she was a reporter. Who'd have thought she'd be reporting on someone she knows, huh?"

"That might be problematic for Barry, to keep his secret."

"Maybe," Felicity said, "let's see what she has to say."

They all turned back to the screen. Iris was standing outside the bank, wind blowing her short hair around her face as she spoke into the monitor. "_This leaves Central City with a lot of unanswered questions regarding the identity and intention of this new player, who seems to have super-human abilities – has Central City got its own Superman, or another crazy vigilante? More on the story to come as it unfolds_."

There was a total silence in the Foundry for thirty seconds after the report finished. Nobody had expected Barry or Lena to go out chasing criminals so soon, let alone get caught on camera and make the news.

Eventually, Oliver spoke in a loud, paced tone. "I am going to kill them both."

Felicity tilted her head, "not if I beat you to it."

"Call them. Tell them to get here _now_."

* * *

Barry had been standing in the alley for five minutes. He leaned heavily against the wall, his breathing laboured from the events of the evening, one hand tangled in his short hair and not quite sure if what had just happened was real. When Lena showed up, pulling her hood down and jumping from the nearest roof before running towards him, Barry grinned, and hugged her back fiercely when she embraced him with an identical grin. The hug lasted for a while, clinging together in the tiny alleyway, still breathless from the fight. She was really, really glad he was alive. He might just be one of the kindest people she had ever met, too kind for this life; and she worried about him a lot already. He was her friend. They swung about for a moment.

"I'm so proud of you," Lena grinned as she leaned back. "You got it right on your first try! And you didn't get caught or injured – this deserves a celebration."

"Nice to know you had so much faith in me. And thanks for the assist, by the way – nice shot."

"I was aiming for his head, actually," Lena smirked. But when Barry's face dropped, she rolled her eyes exasperatedly, "I'm obviously kidding. Come on, you for one need a drink to calm down."

"Like you're going to get served," Barry said sarcastically as they began to walk out of the alley.

"I'm more likely to get served than you!" she countered with a laugh, shoving him on the shoulder. Barry obediently swayed, still too caught up in the moment to care about much about anything. Then, seeming to remember something, Lena stopped and reached into her quiver, pulling out a slightly crooked arrow, which she held out to him on the palms of her open hands with a smile.

"Uh . . . what are you doing?"

"It's a souvenir!" Lena protested his look with a shake of her head, still holding out the arrow like a gift. "Everyone should have something from their first mission to remember it by – I pulled this out of the floor of the bank. Keep it – it might remind you why you started one day, when you need it."

Reluctantly, Barry reached out and took the damaged arrow, turning it over in his hands thoughtfully. Eventually, he nodded as he clenched it tightly in his fist. "Thank you, for everything."

"You might not be thanking me for long," Lena said, but before she could continue her phone rang in her pocket. Very few people had that number, and she knew they wouldn't phone this late unless they had to, so she fished it out and answered it, "Helloooo?"

For the few minutes Lena was on the phone, Barry watched her face change dramatically. It was almost comical, the range from shock to joking to scared she could go through in milliseconds, but she managed it all. The girl was a complete fire-cracker, if there was anything he'd learned in the past few days. While Felicity was a slow burning candle, soft and consistent and enough to light any dark for days; Lena was more of an explosion, quick to ignite and burn out quickly, leaving only sparks and an afterimage burned onto retinas to show she was even there. They were so alike and yet miles apart in differences, and it was scary to see. He worried about them both for different reasons.

Once Lena was finished with the call she hung up, wincing as she met Barry's eyes. "We are _so_ in the dog house. Oliver is going to skin both of us alive apparently, but only after you've given them a blood sample – the chemicals have all been isolated. We can find out what happened to you – biologically, at least."

"So we've got to go back to Starling?" he asked.

"Tonight," Lena admitted, "I'd say risk Oliver's rage and go tomorrow, but it might be good to get out of here for a day with everyone looking for the Flash."

"You're probably right. The last train leaves at 11:24, we should get going."

"Right – meet you at your place in ten? I'll just grab my stuff. You know, I'm going to miss this city," Lena said nostalgically, even as she looked around the drab alley. She had really liked Central City, and being with someone as optimistic and ever-positive in the face of his tragedy as Barry had reminded her that there was good in the world, and good people. You just had to find them.

"Hey, you're welcome back at any time," Barry put a hand on her shoulder, making her smile, "in fact; I'll be disappointed if you don't come back.

"Well then I'd hate to disappoint," Lena grinned. Barry clapped her on the back and they parted ways for the second time, changing out of their costumes on the way back and looking like every other person in the city by the time they got back to Barry's place. The things they'd need were gathered quickly, but before they could leave, the doorbell rang out. Looking startled, Barry checked out of the window, fearing they had been followed. His heart rate increased as he pulled back the curtain a fraction of an inch – and a huge breath escaped him when he saw it was only Iris. Then his stomach dropped.

"You've got to hide!" he hissed at Lena, manhandling her to the kitchen quietly. As he pushed her to hide, running a hand through his hair, she laughed, which he stifled with a hand, pleading, "please don't."

"What? Are you ashamed of me?" she teased back, giggling. Then she looked at him more seriously, "if you like the girl, just ask her out. Don't act like a freak and hide innocent children in your kitchen."

"How am I supposed to explain why you're here?"

"Leave it to me," Lena grinned, and had ducked under his arm and ran to the door before Barry could even react, even with his super-speed. She had opened the door for Iris and plastered a giant grin on her face as he watched. When Iris saw her, she only had a second to look confused before Lena started gushing excitedly, "Oh my god – Iris, right? From the hospital?"

Although she looked confused, the other woman nodded. "Yeah, uh . . . Lena, is it? Felicity's sister?"

"That's me!"

"Um, what are you doing here?" Iris asked uncertainly, looking around for Barry or Felicity. "Didn't you go home?"

"Felicity did," Lena grinned, making her eyebrows jump up. From where he was watching, fixed in horror, Barry was amazed at how unlike herself the kid was acting – she was animated and cheery, the type of 'cheerleader' hype and casualness she normally lacked. Lena was always cracking jokes, but she was never this obliviously joyful, more dry. She was too good of an actor. "I stayed because Barry offered to show me around Central and to teach me a thing or two about his job. I um, really, really love science. I want to be a CSI too, but I'm not even nearly trained yet. But Barry is an absolute sweetheart and offered to teach me." Lena put a hand over her heart, gushing loudly with her lies. For a moment, Iris looked relieved, as she had wondered whether Felicity and Barry were hooking up; but no, it was just Barry being his normal self and helping others. She loved that. While Iris was thinking, Lena spoke on, "I mean, what a guy right? So funny and kind and smart – and did I mention he can _cook_-"

But Lena's speech, which was becoming way too obvious and sarcastic, was cut off by Barry, who barrelled into her as he appeared at the door, sending her a death glare as he did. Once he'd communicated the '_shut up, you shit_' message, he turned back to Iris with a falsely bright grin. "Iris! Hi iris. What are you doing here?"

Laughing at his expression - wide eyes and a slightly unhinged look - Iris shook her head. "I just wanted to check in on you, but you seem to be doing fine. You don't need me to look after you. I should get going."

"You don't have to!" Barry shouted, then looked embarrassed, "go, I mean. Y-You could stay for a while."

"No, it's fine. I've just finished work – it's been a long day. Your sister made the papers, did you see?" Iris said, nodding to Lena. The younger girl shook her head in response. Looking amused, Iris smirked, "Oliver Queen, huh?"

Lena laughed, "Right. High standards, my sister."

"I think they looked cute," Iris smiled kindly. In all seriousness, Felicity Smoak had been very kind to her on the day Barry had woken up, especially when he had bolted. The other woman had stayed with a near-hysterical Iris, and she was grateful. "They should come back sometime; we could all go for dinner."

"I'll tell them."

The other lady nodded, starting to retreat down the front porch with a smile. "It was nice to see you again. Night, Barry."

"Goodnight, Iris" Barry echoed, watching her go wistfully. Feeling a presence at his side, he twisted to see Lena giving him a look, eyes playful. Daring him to do it. At this, he sighed, turning away from her and chasing Iris down the driveway in the night. "Iris! Iris, wait."

She stopped, turning around to find him standing on the grass, looking embarrassed. Barry rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting from her to the floor as he spat out his words in one hurried rush, "Listen, being in a coma has really made me realise what's important in my life – who is – and who I want to spend my time with. And uh, I was just wondering if you'd maybe like to go for a drink?"

When Barry looked up, he was wincing; he expected the worst. But to his pleasant surprise, Iris smiled mischievously, "I thought you'd never ask."

Then she was gone, leaving him grinning and exhilarated on the lawn. Trying to act casual about it but celebrating inwardly, Barry walked back up to the house triumphantly.

And in half an hour they were on board a train to Starling city.

The train was mostly empty so they didn't feel guilty at all in sitting in one of the seats meant for four people, set out like a table with two chairs beside each other facing two directly opposite. Barry and Lena sat on opposite sides, the man sitting like an adult while the teenager stretched her legs across the open space to his side, tucking them into the corner next to where he sat as she slumped against the window, hoodie drawn up all around her hair as she snuggled into it. Seeing this, Barry smiled before doing the same. It was going to be a long journey, and their eyes closed at almost the same motion, the chugging of the train on the tracks rocking them both gently to sleep.

* * *

When they got to the Foundry, Lena walked down the stairs first. She'd told Barry beforehand to let her handle Oliver if he was pissed, and was ready to abuse her status as his girlfriend's little sister. At their arrival, clumping down the stairs with her bag under her arm, the rest of the team looked up. Once they had entered the main part of the room Oliver took a few angry steps towards them.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"That people needed help and we were the best equipped to deal with it," Lena answered coolly, putting her bag down on the table. Oliver's gaze had been on Barry, who looked momentarily guilty, but shifted to the younger girl when she spoke.

Oliver rounded on her, "you got caught!"

"Really?" Lena said sceptically, looking around the Foundry with squinted eyes, as if searching for something. "'Cause I don't see any police."

"_On camera_."

"Any why is that a problem? People saw Barry saving innocent civilians, and nobody even saw me. No problem."

"Except for when the press and the police decide to publicly crucify him and call him a vigilante!" Oliver shouted, nodding towards Barry. He couldn't believe they had been so stupid, even though he knew it was mostly just concern coursing through his veins, not really anger.

But to his surprise, Lena laughed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why would they do that? Let me tell you the difference between you and how they just saw Barry – as soon as you got back you started putting arrows in people. That's what made you a vigilante. But we didn't kill anyone – we saved them instead. That's what makes a hero."

Although he hated to admit it, Oliver knew she was right. They had saved people. Biting the inside of his cheek, he stayed quiet until Barry spoke up.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken her with me."

"She would have found a way to follow you," Oliver admitted resentfully. Lena raised her eyebrows triumphantly with a smirk and walked over to see her sister as he turned towards the other man, crossing the space before offering a hand. Barry looked at it uncertainly, until Oliver laughed warmly, "It's good to see you up and about. How's the business suiting you?"

Barry took the hand and shook it, half of a smile on his face. "I think I'll work it out, given a little time. I was hoping you'd teach me a few tricks."

Oliver's grin only grew deeper as he looked around the Foundry, already dreaming up things to teach their friend. This was going to be fun. "Oh, definitely. I have a feeling this is the start of an alliance that will help the both of us, and I can't let you go out unprepared, can I, Rookie?"

Barry laughed at that, looking around the Foundry. It had been a long time since he'd been there . . . and there were a few new faces.

Noticing him looking about curiously at the strangers, Felicity looked up and smiled. "Oh right – this is Sara Lance and Roy Harper."

"Hi, heard a lot about you" Sara nodded, adding her own grin. She walked over and offered her hand to Barry, who shook it nervously, face half fixed in awe. All of the people looked way too badass to be real in their leather and weapons, and he felt decidedly out of place in his blue jumper and black jeans. Sara Lance was pretty, a fact he couldn't ignore. Barry flushed as he let go, looking to the other new face – but Roy had only looked over casually and nodded. Seeing this, Lena rolled her eyes and began to elbow her friend in the ribs.

"Quit it," Roy grumbled from beside her. He looked irritated as he tried to swipe her away, but Lena only gave him a significant look and moved to stomp on his foot before Roy reconsidered and looked up at the new arrival, adding bitterly, "hi."

It was a simple hello, which only made Lena sigh harder and look up apologetically at Barry. "I'm sorry about him. Really, he's a nice guy – just 'sour' is his predominant emotion."

"Hey!" Roy protested, looking at her, as Oliver and Diggle sniggered.

"Ah, shut it," Lena told him, hiding a smile. "You're lucky I don't just announce Barry as my new friend – at least_ he's_ cheerful."

"I'm cheerful . . . sometimes."

"So would it kill ya to try smiling and say hello nicely?"

"Yes," Roy said through gritted teeth. He shook his head as she grinned, crossing the room to grab her bag. "Where are you going?"

"Home. Be back in an hour – try to play nice, children."

As Lena left, she patted Barry on the back as if to say 'good luck'. Running up the stairs, she was gone in a moment, and a brief silence fell. She had been the one to build the bridges, leaving them mid-air and uncertain.

Eventually, Diggle spoke up, looking curious, "just how fast are you?"

For an answer, Barry looked over at Oliver's arrow. It was hard to explain his speed, so he thought it best to just show them. Nodding to the bow, he looked up at Oliver, "shoot one."

"What?"

"Just do it."

Shaking his head, Oliver grinned as he picked up his bow and notched an arrow. After a final confirming nod from the younger man, he released the arrow through the Foundry as his friends moved out of its path. Once it was in the air he relaxed his position in time to see Barry move – almost. It was more like a blur as he ran through the small space, catching up with the arrow in the blink of an eye. Before it could even hit a wall, he had run in front of it, catching it in his bare hands and finally stopping to grin up at them. Barry's pale cheeks flushed in excitement as he grinned up at them, visible once more with the arrow clutched in his fist.

Even Roy looked impressed, lips twitching upwards. "Cool."

"Very," Oliver added, looking astonished but still smirking. "I think this is going to be fun."

"Why am I suddenly scared?" Barry asked, forcing a laugh, as did the others. Their team was growing, in numbers and skills - today was a good day.

* * *

**A/N: **_thanks for all the responses to the last chapter! You helped a lot. Did everyone like the young justice 'souvenier' reference in this chapter? I will sneak in yj characters where I can, and explanations of some characteristics in the series, especially when Wally shows up. um, the next chapter is sort of different and revealing of a few things in a backwards order, and will probably leave more questions than answers so I apologise in advance. it will be answered eventually. also, please rec this fic to friend etc or on tumblr if you're on there, it'd be awesome to get more folks reading! don't forget you can follow/message me at wallyallens. cheers :)  
_


	27. Dark and full of terrors

**'Dark and full of terrors'**

_Kevin was shouting. Lena wasn't sure what was going on, but something was happening and she barely had time to drop a kiss onto her mother's forehead before she was pulled out of the house, bundled quickly into a car as they sped away. He was talking, but she only caught a few words as the bumped along the road._

_"Lena? Kid, are you even listening to me?"_

_Snapping out of it, she looked up. Lena was only seventeen, face a lot fresher than it looked at nineteen, without all the resentment there. That was coming. "Yeah, yeah, I'm listening. What's up, Boss?"_

_"There's a man looking for you. He's demanding to see the thief responsible for all the robberies in the city and refuses to leave until you speak to him."_

_"So don't ask him to leave," she shrugged, "make him."_

_"He's killed three men so far." Kevin's tone was grave, and finally Lena looked up. He felt terrible for the kid, as she was too young for this life, and only finally understanding his meaning. He went on, slowly so she understood, "he says he wants to train that thief only. He doesn't know who it is, but when we tried to send in some guy who lied and said it was him, he somehow knew we were lying, and killed him. He won't go, Lena. I can't save you."_

_"What does he want with me?" she asked. The seriousness of the situation was finally catching up to her, the usual smirk and swagger she wore fading. _

_"He said something about wanting to train you, and that you 'fit the criteria'" Kevin explained. In the car beside her, he was wringing his hands together – he didn't want to see the kid hurt. Not in a million years. But he wasn't being left with a choice. "Kid, I'm sorry. We could send in more guys-"_

_"-No," Lena interrupted loudly, shaking her head. "I don't want anyone to die, not for me. But my mom, I can't leave her – what of this guy kills me? She'll be alone."_

_"I'd be more worried about dying than your mother."_

_"I don't matter," Lena said quietly, staring into empty space. _

_"You matter to me," Kevin said decidedly, leaning forwards to make her look at him. He'd never had kids, but took in a few who needed it in his gang. It wasn't an honest living, but he made sure they had enough and gave them work, and he came to look at them as family. The kid was the best damn thief he'd ever seen, and he cared – she'd been with them a year now. "Listen, I can't ask you to go, it's too much."_

_"I'm going. I don't know what this man wants me for, but if he manages to track me down another way, he could hurt my mom. I can't have that. I'll go – and I'll just have to hope he doesn't shoot me on sight, and that this 'training' is optional."_

_"Then there's one thing I can do for you," Kevin said. Talking to the driver of the large black car they were riding in, they changed direction and started heading someplace else._

* * *

Felicity woke up when the arm around her waist tightened. Eyes flicking open, she saw her bedroom float into view, barely lit from the streetlights outside through the window. Books cluttered the top of her bedside table, with a new photo of her and her sister standing on top of the small chest of drawers pushed against the wall; Felicity's fists clutched the blue bed sheets as she stirred awake quickly, only the pressure around her stomach pulling her to consciousness. Blinking, she rubbed her eyes and looked down, seeing Oliver's arm there. It was getting tighter around her by the second, the heat of his body behind her confirming that they had fallen asleep curled up together, him holding her closely. He did that a lot, one arm constantly slung around her, as if to prove to himself that she was always there.

But tonight, he was clinging on too tightly, telling her straight away that something was wrong. She moved as carefully as she could, twisting onto her back to look over at him. He was still asleep beside her, but his face was far from peaceful, eyes screwed tightly shut and mouth twitching every few seconds. His one arm was clutching her tightly in sleep, while the other was clenched in the duvet as he stirred soundlessly, looking pained. Another nightmare. It happened a few times.

"Oliver," Felicity said gently when she saw all of this, pushing his shoulder to try and wake him. "Oliver, wake up."

But he was stubborn by nature, so remained asleep in his nightmare, only twitching and rolling away from her at the touch. Knowing she couldn't leave him like that, Felicity sighed and sat up in bed, moving over to him again and grabbing him by the shoulders this time, shaking him more roughly.

"Wake up!"

Oliver did. With a start, he sat up with a sharp take in of breath and pushed her backwards instinctively. Felicity fell back a little until she was sat on the end of the bed, watching him with worry as he breathed heavily, and there was sweat glistening on his forehead as his panicked eyes took in the room around him. When he saw where he was, the manic glint in his gaze vanished and was replaced by his normal steady glance, realizing he was safe. This wasn't the island; it was Felicity's bedroom. . . . And he had just pushed her away.

"Felicity," he breathed suddenly, eyes locking on her as he moved forwards to sit in front of her, one hand going to her cheek tenderly. "Did I hurt you?"

"I'm not made of glass, idiot," she chuckled, taking his hand. She moved it away from her face and held it in her lap, looking at him with barely hidden concern. Putting her other hand on his arm and feeling the sticky sweat there, she looked right through him, seeing all. "Was it the Island again?"

For a moment, Oliver looked conflicted, and she wondered if he was going to shut her out like he used to. Then he slumped down a little, nodding without any of his usual steel. "I'm sorry I woke you," he said, voice low and dejected.

"Hey," Felicity squeezed his hand in her own, smiling benevolently at him. "That's what I'm here for. But you're okay now, you're here. You don't ever have to think of that place again."

"It's not that easy to forget," he answered ruefully. He did not pull away, or lie, or walk off completely, but let her hand gently rub across his arm, tracing goose bumps on his skin. Felicity was never pushing him to talk about it, or running away from it – she just kept him close, and was _there_. That was enough. Eventually, after a time of quiet where the only sound was their breathing, he leaned a little closer until their shoulders touched and said, "Some people make it easier, though."

He missed the look on Felicity's face, head turning downwards. He supposed the nightmares would eventually filter out, as they had been getting less frequent for months – until Slade had shown up. They'd come back with a vengeance then. Breathing steadily again, he swung his legs free of the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against his knees, he rubbed the back of his neck, twisting slightly. Out of the corner of his mouth he said, "You should go back to sleep."

"Yeah, I should" Felicity laughed, contradicting that very statement by moving over in the bed to sit closer to him again. Like she was ever going to just go back to sleep and leave him like that. Putting a warm hand on his shoulder, she leaned behind him and put her chin on his shoulder, making him chuckle. "But I won't."

All she did was sit with him quietly until he eventually subsided and lay back down, keeping a hand on him at all times; his anchor to reality. When he did lie again, Felicity made sure she put her head on his chest to sleep, where she could fell him breathing, knowing that this time if he started to panic, she'd feel it right away. But with her curled around him, breathing in the smell of her hair and looking around Felicity's room, thinking _I'm safe_, Oliver fell back to sleep, and did not have nightmares.

* * *

_It looked like a back-alley sort of place, the kind it wasn't safe to be in, but Lena followed Kevin without question. He'd promised to help her._

_Inside was just as dingy as the outside, with walls which probably didn't start out grey but had ended up that way, exposed light bulb swinging over a dark grey surgeon's chair, and a version of a supercomputer in the corner. Lena took all of this in as Kevin spoke to the little man inside, bug-like in every aspect of his appearance, from his beetle eyes to the lithe but strong physique he held. He turned to scrutinise her carefully, and she tried not to wince under the inhuman gaze. Eventually, the man nodded to Kevin._

_"Yes, I think I can do something here." His voice was just as repulsive as his appearance, tongue flicking over his lips as he spoke, eyes watery. "But it will be double the normal rate."_

_"Just do it, money doesn't matter," Kevin snapped. The man nodded, kneading his thin, bony hands together._

_"I'll need a few minutes." He even scurried away like a bug._

_"Kevin?" she asked, concerned. It was only in a place as dark as this that he realized that despite everything, Lena had managed to keep her hands mostly clean, as well as retaining her innocence. She looked scared, child-like, as she looked around. "I don't like this place."_

_"Listen," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and turning her away from the beetle man to talk to her quietly, "this man is going to change your appearance. Hair – eyes – anything we can think of. He's going to give you a new identity before you go off to find that man."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because he wants the thief; he doesn't seem to know who that is. That gives you power. Never forget that identity is just as useful a tool as any weapon. You can have power by hiding yourself, and not revealing too much, it gives you the advantage if you know someone, but they don't know you. This man wants the thief, but we don't have to send him Lena – you can go as someone else-"_

_"So that if I manage to come back, you can hide me as myself," Lena nodded, piecing it together. "Genius. But what if it's pointless? He might know who I am already – and how do you know we can trust this guy?" She glared at the beetle man, who was pretending to ignore them. _

_"As long as we pay him enough, he'll keep quiet," Kevin said surely. "He's the same as most – as long as it benefits him, he won't ask questions. It's only if the balance changes that he'll betray us. Are you ready?"_

_"To stop being me?" Lena asked, shaking her head. Her eyes were glassy as she looked back at her mentor. "Would you be?"_

_"No. But I know that if anyone can get out of a bad situation, it's you, Kid. Whatever this other man wants with you, you'll find a way out. Or you'll endure this 'training' of his. You're a survivor."_

* * *

Diggle was sleeping as little as the rest of them. Unlike Felicity and Oliver, however, he was lying alone, staring at a blank ceiling. It had been a tiring few days. It had been just over a month since Barry had left, just over a month since he'd got a cryptic text saying 'we need to talk', just over a month since Lyla had given him a choice he could never make. Sleeping hadn't been the same since.

Turning over angrily, he pounded the pillow beneath his head to release the burst of aggression brought about by the memories. It came in flashes; the sadness did to. It was impossible. He couldn't, and wouldn't, do what she had asked. But it hurt too much to do anything else.

Settling back down on his newly tussled pillow, he tried in vain to be tricked into sleeping by the blurring light and sights around him. But his thoughts kept him up, and it didn't work: the bed was too warm one minute, too cold the next; either too hard or soft or too annoying alone, and he just couldn't find a comfortable way to lie down to sleep. He doubted it would happen tonight. After nearly another hour agonising silently before something caught his eye. It was something always on his ceiling, but almost always forgotten: a small, brown mark from when Oliver had come round to help move furniture and bumped a bookcase against it.

Diggle chuckled as he saw it and remembered that day. It had been funny: while he and Oliver moved some stuff around, Felicity had berated him about the placements he had chosen and their impracticality. She had also made the first nice cup of tea he'd had in years, as they'd sat in the middle of the room when it was done, the window open and a breeze rushing through. The sun was just going down, catching the room in just the right way to fill it and bathe them all in light. It had been summer, the work hard, and that breeze had felt like a life-saver. They'd sat for a while and talked about everything after that; it was a good memory.

In the dark, John Diggle smiled for the first time in weeks.

Lyla had told him a month ago that she had been offered a job higher up in ARGUS which would mean her moving away. Very far away, where visiting would not be an option, and contact would be infrequent and limited, watched. Although she had spent time thinking about it first, by the time she had spoken to him, her decision was made – she'd accepted the job. She wanted to go and feel like she was making a difference as much as he did, and Diggle had to respect that, even if it broke his heart. But then she'd offered him a chance not to lose her: come with her. Leave this all behind and run away with her to this new life.

For the past month, it was this decision which had kept him awake at night. In all honestly, he had really considered making the deal some nights, calling her up and promising to leave with her. It would be easy, he had lied to himself, a fresh start; complete cut off from all the danger here. That was the lie he tried to bargain with. That it was worth getting out now. But it was wrong; _this_ was what gave his life meaning - he loved working with_ his_ team, cleaning up _his_ home with _his_ friends. It made sense, and he could never leave them; they were his family.

He loved Lyla. He did, with all of his heart – but they were a love from long ago and his life was different now. Although he would miss her; the bed would always be too empty without her shape beside him, Diggle knew some things – some people – came first now. All it took was a scuff on the wall to remind him.

Decision made, Diggle fell asleep much easier after that.

* * *

_Lena was sitting in the chair now. The beetle man had tapped away at his keyboard to sort of the specifics – a new security number, history, life – all that was left was changing her appearance. Her hair hung around her shoulders limply, still damp from the dye. From what she could see from the sides of her eyes, it was black now, so unlike her usual light locks. That was when the beetle man walked back into her vision – a needle in his hand._

_"What's that?" she demanded, flinching back in the chair instinctively._

_The beetle man laughed a whining, grating sound. "This is a colour pigment; it will change the shade of your iris'. The eyes tell a lot more than the face does, dear."_

_"You wanna jab a needle in my eyes?" Lena shrieked, looking to Kevin for support, "no way! Absolutely not."_

_"Lena, I'm not going to force you into this. But the more we can disguise you, the safer your mother will be," Kevin replied evenly. He hated having to use her mother as ammunition, but he knew the kid could be stubborn as hell when she wanted to, and family was her Achilles heel. At his words, she froze, looking terrified. After a moment, she turned back to the man with the needle and nodded once. The resolute detachment in her gaze was slightly terrifying, wavering only slightly as she leaned back against the headrest as she needle approached her eyeball, hands becoming so tight on the chair arms that her knuckles were white. _

_As the needle went in, Kevin had to look away, but heard the squelch and intake of breath. It happened once more, Lena to her credit not screaming, before he turned around to look at her again. As he did, he familiar green-grey eyes swirled with colour as the dye set in, turning a dark, cobalt blue. With her black hair and new eye shade, she was almost unrecognisable. But there was one thing left to do – and it wasn't pleasant. _

_"Last thing," Beetle man said to Lena, snapping a picture of her to use for all of her new identification. "Fingerprints. And I'm afraid that due to lack of resources, my methods are crude."_

_In the last few minutes, eyes still stinging and watering from the needle, Lena had resigned herself to this new fate. She would have to change, and have to face the killer looking for her – whatever that was about, anyway. So when he said this, she was not afraid as she would have been a few hours ago. She was starting to lose what was left of her childhood, the cold, invincible version of her taking its place, one which stayed with her for a long time. It was only by becoming cold that she survived the next year, and it all started here. _

_Looking up at the man, she nodded once more. This time, as the electronic sander met her fingertips and began to scrub away her prints, she couldn't hold back a scream . . ._

_An hour later, she stood at the door to a warehouse by the beach. That was where the man looking for her was waiting, she had been told; he had killed another two men in his demands to speak with her. But the Lena standing at the door was not her real self – with raven hair, blue eyes and a whole other life and a new name – Prudence Claritz – she couldn't be Lena anymore. It would only work if she really sold it, and never failed in the cover they had set up for her. Tilting her chin up, she entered the warehouse, knowing who she needed to be and why. This was the only way to protect her family._

_At the time, she hadn't known she was walking right into the worst year of her life . . ._

_A man, thin like a spear, was standing in the middle of the empty warehouse. She approached him silently, taking in mountainous slopes of shoulders and careful angle of the head, listening hard. He must have heard her coming, for he inclined it further in her direction and spoke._

_"Finally, the true thief reveals herself. None of the others even nearly snuck up on me . . . oh no, you are definitely the one. I am collecting a set of individuals together. People who fit a certain criteria – survivors, fighters, people who are almost invisible. People like you. Perhaps I should explain myself," the man finally turned fully to face her. His face was calm; controlled; even his heavy eyebrows lay still on his brow. His eyes were dark, though, the cold, calculating eyes of a killer, a predator. Lena wanted to run, but stood her ground, which only seemed to please him more. "I am known as the Sensei – and I have a proposition for you."_

* * *

Lena woke up with a start, sitting up in bed. She was sweating a lot, hair clinging to her face in unattractive lumps, and her heart rate was skyrocketing; she knew she had to calm down. It was the nightmare again. The start of the loop. The day everything started to go wrong.

Even the thought chilled her as she sucked in an involuntarily breath, getting to her feet shakily as she forced her mind elsewhere. She couldn't stop those memories from haunting her while she was dreaming, but she could sure as hell refuse to let them break her while she was awake. She'd gotten rather good at it over the past year. Glad that there was nobody around to see, she looked around the small interior of her new place, a cramped apartment in the Glades or the 'hole' as Roy so fondly called it, like his place was any better.

Stumbling to the bathroom on legs barely able to hold up her weight from shaking, her trembling fingertips jammed the light on for the small room, causing her eyes to protest at the sudden light. Blinking harshly and forcing herself to wake up, Lena almost fell against the sink, hands clutching at the white basin pathetically. She was a wreck. She always was, on nights like this. Forcing on the faucet, she rammed her hand into the lazy jet of water emitted before rubbing it over her face. The icy water hitting it like a ton of bricks and definitely alerting her more, Lena rubbed her eyes tiredly before finally looking up at her reflection in the stained mirror hanging on the wall.

She was always relieved when she saw that her hair was blonde again, her eyes were green, and that person she had been was gone. Lena was back. She was back. But sometimes, she found it hard to differentiate between who she had been forced to become and who she was. Even as she looked, she could still picture dark hair and blue eyes perfectly staring back at her, a version of her from the past. The nightmare she could never shake.

_It's gone_, she told herself sternly, forcing her eyes away. _You escaped. This is safe now._

But she knew that wasn't true at all as she clicked the light back off and collapsed back into bed. She would never really leave that year, not as long as she still had those nightmares, and they weren't likely to leave anytime soon. She would always be trapped by her own fear.

Unlike the others, when Lena Smoak fell asleep that night for the second time, her dark dreams returned.

* * *

A month and a half after that, there was a knock on Lena's door at three in the morning. Palming a knife and taking her shotgun with her to the door, she dropped it as soon as she saw Barry standing there, hair plastered to his head with rain and looking devastated. His face was pale and gaunt, looking ill as his eyes stared at the floor, not even meeting her face as she answered the door; he looked too washed out in the sudden yellow light. Dejectedly, in a toneless voice she had never heard from him before, Barry said simply: "I understand now. What you meant when you warned me against playing a hero – I – I get it."

All she had done then was step aside, and he had walked in and collapsed straight on her couch, burying his head in his hands. It had been the worst night he remembered in a while. He had been trying to stop one of the rogues – the villains in Central that had been so nicknamed, meta-humans like himself who had been affected by the explosion – this time, Captain Cold had been paying some low lives to rig the one of the trains running above the city to derail. It was much more serious and potentially deadly than anything Barry had faced so far in his time as the Flash. If the train had derailed, people could have died – but in his efforts to stop it, he'd been left with an impossible choice.

He could either save the train, or catch one of the people who had rigged it to derail after they fell from the tracks. He had tried in vain to do both, running as fast as he could to catch the falling criminal – but he was too late. The man had died. Barry didn't think he'd ever forget the man's face as he fell, or that the Flash might be fast, but he couldn't save anyone. Barry couldn't save anyone.

Unlike his alter-ego, the loudly wisecracking and funny 'Flash' persona Lena had helped him to construct, telling him that a sense of humour in a fight would be more appreciated than misery; Barry couldn't just shake it off. He wasn't like the Flash. In fact, Barry had never felt so detached from his other life. He was quiet and shy - in fact on his first date with Iris he'd tripped over his own feet walking into a coffee shop and ended up with a giant stain on his shirt all day. They'd been going out for over a month now, and he still got nervous picking her up from work or taking her out to dinner.

He would never forget that night; the first person he couldn't save. He had been distraught afterwards, running to the arctic and back to calm down, but it hadn't worked – then he remembered his promise to Lena. Finally, he understood. Within five minutes, he had been in Starling City and knocking at her door, and she had known exactly how he felt, just in her gaze as she opened the door.

When he heard a clink in front of him, he looked up from his hands to see her putting a glass of amber coloured liquid on the small table in the centre of her room. Barry picked it up and drank it down without thinking, the subsequent fire in his throat almost enough to burn out the emptiness inside of him. Looking straight back up to find her only taking a small sip of her own glass with an incredulous look on her face from his drinking, he held out his small glass for more; she filled it. Not even questioning why the underage girl had a bottle of such strong whiskey, Barry sat and drank and talked all night, and Lena listened.

All they had was cheap liquor and a promise, but it was a promise kept; Barry would never forget her kindness that night. It was a debt he intended one day to repay.

* * *

**A/N: **_okay so I know this chapter is a bit Lena-centric and won't make much sense until some other truths come out later on in the story. I just wanted to introduce a little bit of her real backstory through her nightmares and also Olicity in bed and Diggle and Barry having conflicts. I've decided to re-write everything from this chapter onwards, so updates might be a little slow until I'm a few chapters ahead again. let me know what you think, as always. You guys are good at that._


	28. Something realized

**'Something realized'**

Slade Wilson returned to Starling City on a Thursday. It was just a Thursday, or so everyone else in the city thought. Nothing special happened: cars drove, people went to work, went to lunch, went on dates; they laughed without knowing it might be their last chance to. It was only a Thursday.

On that Thursday, John Diggle and Felicity Smoak went to lunch. It had been a while since just the two of them had been out, and she was shocked at just how much she found herself missing her best friend. Burgers were on her that day.

"So, are you going to tell me what's been bugging you?" Felicity asked as they sat, steaming food in front of them. She looked at him over the tops of her glasses, so when he moved to reply with something passive, she was on it right away. "And don't say 'nothing', 'cause I know you too well. You've been matching Oliver on levels of brooding for the past few weeks with the sulking and silences. Not that I minded, I just worried. I care. I want details."

Diggle waited for a moment, taking a sip of his coke and a bite of his burger before he answered. He hadn't mentioned anything to the others, there was no point in worrying them. But she was his friend. "Lyla left."

A small frown, "Left?"

"Took a job too far away and too deep in some big project to stay in touch," Diggle said. He wasn't sad anymore; he just missed her every time he breathed. "She wanted me to go with her."

Felicity stopped eating them, freezing and fixing him with a steady look. Her lips flicked down in sympathy as she reached across and put her hand over his. She didn't need to ask him why he stayed; she knew it was for them. There was no point in dwelling on it. Instead, she simply squeezed once, "thank you for staying."

"There was never another option," Diggle said back, reminding himself that he'd made the right choice. "There's nowhere I'd trade for Starling."

"Happy to hear it," Felicity grinned, "because I don't plan on letting you go. Ever. Not in a creepy way, but in a you're-the-best-I-couldn't-live-without-you way. Plus, imagine the moping about Oliver would do if you left? No, you're not allowed to leave. Ever."

Diggle suddenly looked serious, forcing her to meet his eye. "Nobody stays forever, Felicity. Something could happen -"

"No!" Felicity snapped suddenly. It was a subject she had been forcing them around for years, especially since she'd been going out with Oliver. She just wouldn't talk about it; Diggle noticed. "Don't even say it. You're not going to-"

"What we do is dangerous, you know that. It's why we worry so much whenever we have to take you out into the field. I won't promise nothing is ever going to happen because . . . I just don't know that it won't. It's the risk we take every night, but it's worth it."

Diggle's eyes never left her as he spoke, not knowing how significant his words were about to become. He watched her carefully, noting how she looked almost immediately away, refusing to acknowledge the words as she picked at her food instead of eating it, blue nails chipped. He knew it was pointless. Felicity was an optimist at heart; she would never believe the worst could happen until it did. It scared her more than she could say to think that anything could happen to any of her boys. Life without them . . . it would be nothing.

* * *

"Thank you, thank you so much," Barry said as he opened the door to find Lena and Roy standing there in the drizzle. He had his jacket half on and his hair was messy, the ring with his Flash suit hidden in on his finger and just waiting to be used. He rushed out of the house where he now lived with Iris, breathless and panting as he stared down the two teenagers. "It's just . . . Iris is away and I was meant to be looking after her nephew but I just got a call about a crisis."

"From who?" Roy asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

Barry looked uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand before glancing back at the house, pulling the door further shut. He spoke even more quietly to the two of them. "Listen, I know I should have mentioned it before but a few weeks ago I bumped into this other hero . . . the Green Lantern. He works mostly up in Coast, but he sort of protects the universe around our planet. He's alright. I told him to call me if there was ever anything I could help with."

"I'm sorry – what?" Lena snapped, looking furious as she faced him. "You made friends with other heroes and didn't tell me! Are you serious?"

Barry laughed a little. Of everything she could be, she was mad at him for not telling her. Of course she was. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just the thought of Oliver and Hal together is scary – I'm pretty sure the _world_ would be on fire in five minutes flat."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Barry sighed, "GL's great, but he's immature when he's not wearing the mask. Like Oliver – real life ass, but he really does a good job when it comes down to it."

"So don't tell Oliver, tell me," Lena grinned, "I won't tell, and it'll really piss him off when he does find out."

Barry relented, "I'll bring him round after we're done. I have a feeling the two of you will really hit it off. Just – look out for Wally for a few hours – he's fifteen so he won't like being babysat, try and be nice?"

"We will - even Roy."

"One of these days, I'm going to get even for every shot you've ever taken at me," Roy said dryly, adding a quick 'good luck' to Barry before going into the house. Behind him, Lena hugged the older man quickly, patting him on the back. It was only then that he realized why she looked different today – instead of her normal clothes, jeans and a shirt, she was wearing more formal clothing: black heels and tights with a skirt even shorter than her sisters, white blouse and blazer tying it all up. Barry leaned back and frowned, "what's with the fancy get-up?"

"I was in court today, one of my cases actually turned up something illegal," she told him, suddenly abashed by forgetting to change before she headed over, feeling too formal and stiff. In seriousness, she hated it and loved it at the same time. Walking around in the heels made her feel like a queen, but the blouse was too tight and itchy. Luckily, she kept a change of clothes at the Allen's.

"Really? Hmmmn. Guess being a P.I isn't completely useless a career then."

"Thanks Barry. Thanks a lot. You know it's not too different from being a CSI, right? We both look for the truth."

"No, you look for suburban couples dirty little secrets," Barry corrected, seeing her lips tighten, a sure sign he was pissing her off. "I'm sorry; it's just – you should be on hero duty, full time. You can do better than this."

"Being a hero doesn't pay," she pointed out. Barry had no argument to that, knowing she could still aim higher. Her job had bad pay as it was. But he held his tongue, changing back to the matter at hand briskly.

"You can take anything you want from the fridge or order take out, but try and stay indoors until this is over, okay?" Barry asked before he sped off, to which she nodded.

Apprehensively, she went into the Allen house. She'd been there a bunch of times when she had stayed with Barry and Iris, almost a weekly occurrence by now, and had heard a lot about the nephew in question, Wally West. They obviously adored the kid. She had been looking forward to meeting him. When she walked into the living room, she found Roy introducing himself to a kid sitting on the couch. All she could see from behind was a tuft of bright red hair, and hear an annoyed voice.

"I don't need a babysitter, okay? I can't believe Uncle Barry did this."

"Well, I'm not thrilled, either," Roy said back snidely, not liking the attitude he was receiving. He didn't know how Lena had convinced him to come.

"Ignore him Kid, he's too grumpy for his own good," Lena smirked, standing in the doorway and her words making Roy bristle, making a face back. The kid on the couch turned quickly to look at her, panicked for a second before his eyes scanned her in a typical teenage boy way, almost making her crack up laughing. Wally looked somewhat thin and small for his age, with a face full of freckles and very green eyes. "Now, we came because your uncle is a friend and he lets us have the run of the house, including the fridge." Lena grinned as she wandered into the connecting kitchen, and the boys heard the kitchen door open and close before she appeared again, a six pack of beers in her hand. "So, why don't we have a drink – Kid, you can have one and promise to _never_ tell your uncle – and we all try to get along, huh?"

The grin and rueful smirk she received in response answered the question.

* * *

Felicity and Diggle were just paying when the news flashed up on a small screen behind the counter. The first report got their attention – an explosion in a series of warehouses in the Glades.

"Could you turn that up?" Diggle asked, leaning on the counter further. The waitress smiled and obliged, none of the other customers paying as much attention as they were. But Diggle and Felicity listened intently, their senses for things connected to crime in the city drawing them in. Nothing like this had happened since Slade left. That was the first warning sign.

But neither of them expected what came next. The second piece of breaking new showed a familiar face to them both, and a story haunting their earlier conversation – Moira Queen had been stabbed and was in critical condition at memorial hospital.

"No," Diggle breathed, leaning back from the counter, eyes going wide.

Beside him, Felicity allowed herself a moment to panic, but calmed quickly. She had to take control; she was strong. Oliver would need her to be. "We've got to go, we've got to get to him," she said, only vaguely aware of pulling Diggle away and running out of the restaurant. "Digg, he's going to need us now more than ever. You know what this means, don't you?"

Diggle nodded, looking grim, "Slade's back."

"And Oliver can't go on some psychopathic revenge rage right now, he just can't," Felicity said, refusing to be desperate; instead she was firm. "His family needs him. He's going to be hurting, and mad, but we've got to keep him human. That's our job."

They made it to the hospital in ten minutes. Traffic was hell, but they barely stopped for red lights and wove through it like a whirlwind, worried about being in the open for too long. They had no idea who Slade would go after next.

* * *

Thea Queen was in Verdant, checking the stock behind the bar and chatting with Sara and Laurel Lance, the latter of which was distracting her sister from working. Not that Thea minded in the slightest; the club didn't open for hours and there wasn't much to do. And they were good company in the absence of Lena or Sin, who had been spending way too much time away recently. Truth be told, Thea was starting to get lonely.

Her friends were always too busy or finding new people to hang out with. She didn't blame them, they were easy people to love, and she knew they would never forget her intentionally; they just had a lot on their minds. The only person who seemed to always be there anymore was Roy, which she didn't even want to think about. She couldn't think about how much she had started to rely on him, or appreciate his presence or miss him when he wasn't there. No way.

So Thea forced a smile as she ticked boxes on the form she was studying, hearing Laurel and Sara bickering around her. It was a nice sort of arguing, all joking and insults. It filled the area around the bar happily, and Thea found she liked the sound.

Some days she wished she had a sister. She had Oliver, of course, but he was a brother and felt like a stranger some days. She loved him, and bickered with him just as well, but when she saw Laurel and Sara, or Lena and Felicity – she wanted that. Sin was her sister in a weird, opposite of herself kind of way. She had also never lied, which counted in her favour. Really, all Thea wanted was a family she could trust. Her mother certainly didn't count – but she trusted Sin, still thought of Lena as being honest, and was starting to trust Roy again. The three of them had been spending a lot more time together, although even that was dwindling. Maybe one day, they could be her family; she'd like that.

Looking up at her name, she found Laurel smiling at her from where she sat across the bar, face crooked. "Are you alright? You look a little lost over there."

"I'm fine, just thinking," Thea shrugged, trying to smile again. She had always liked the other woman. Laurel had been a good boss a year ago when Thea had worked for her, and had learned a lot despite her initial reluctance to the situation. Laurel's confidence and ultimate committal to justice had rubbed off on her. Thea had always admired her for believing this city could be saved; she wished she could do the same. But when Thea looked out over Starling, she didn't see her home anymore, or anything redeemable – it was just another hopeless case. But still Laurel had faith in an uncorrupted system which no longer existed, but could some day, and it was kind of phenomenal after everything she'd been through; Laurel knew suffering as well as them all, but came out of it optimistic. Sure, there had been a blip with her drinking problem earlier in the year, but that was over now. And she had grown stronger from it, more determined to save the city.

Laurel, not knowing any of Thea's thoughts in between the words, put a hand on her hip, "About what?"

"It must be nice to have a sister," Thea shrugged, looking down to avoid what she knew would appear in her gaze: pity. But after a silence, when she looked up, the other woman was shaking her head.

"You've got family, Thea," Laurel said determinedly, putting a hand on her arm near the elbow. "If you ever get bored of doing this, by the way, I'd be glad to have you back. I missed having you as my assistant."

"Because you missed having someone to boss around?"

"Because I missed _you_."

Thea smiled, but held back. She had learnt from her real family that the best way to protect yourself was to distance yourself so as not to get hurt. She wanted to change her ways, yet here she was at arm's length from the world yet again. So she forced her head up and grinned back at Laurel, putting all of her gratitude into a small but growing, fierce smile.

It fell off her face as her phone rang in her pocket, and she excused herself a few feet away to answer it, back to the others. "Thea Queen speaking."

"Ms Queen, this is doctor Sanj calling from memorial hospital. I'm afraid there's been an incident involving your mother – you'd better get here right away. I'll have people waiting to meet you on the door."

"Wait," Thea said, instantly feeling her lip quiver as she spoke, mind reeling; she had frozen inside at the words, "what happened to my mom? What's going on?"

"It's really best to explain in person."

"But-"

"Please," the doctor asked, his voice not unkind. "Just come. She needs you; I've already called your brother, he's on his way."

"O-of course, I'll be right there," Thea stammered, hanging up the phone. By the time she'd turned back to the others, eyes unfocused and hands shaking out a samba at her sides, they were already approaching her with matching concerned looks. When they were upset, both Lance sisters had the habit of frowning with their brows as well as their lips.

"What is it?" Sara asked, always the most alert of the two.

"My mom," Thea choked out. A tear leaked down the side of her face, which she brushed away with the back of her hand, trying to form the words in her mouth. Right now, she really, really wanted Roy. But she knew he was away somewhere with Lena. She made herself look back up at them, "it was the hospital. They – they said she was hurt, that I should go. I've got to-"

Thea turned dazedly and started to tumble away before Sara caught her arm, holding out her hands. "Give me your keys. I'll drive you there - you can't do it yourself in this state. We're coming with you, don't argue."

The younger girl looked up and bit her lip as she handed over her keys, choking out a small "thank you."

* * *

Oliver was alone when he got the call which brought him to his knees. He was at Felicity's – of all things, attempting to cook them both dinner. The spaghetti was boiling over on his left as he balanced a jar of sauce in one hand and a giant wooden spoon in the other. He was heroically bad at this. No pun intended.

"Damn it," he cursed as a white froth spilled out over the side of the pan. Oliver moved to turn down the heat and move it at the same time, resulting in some of the hot water splashing over the side and scalding his own arm. Too conditioned against it to scream, he stepped back with a pained gasp instantly, abandoning the meal to burn to ashes as he raced to shove him arm under cold water.

Sighing in relief as it hit his skin, he leaned against the kitchen sink as he pulled his sleeve up further, knowing Felicity wouldn't mind the dampness around his elbow. He could always take his shirt of if she did, he thought with a grin. After a few minutes, he twisted to look back at the kitchen – there was smoke coming out of the pot, and he knew he really should turn off the oven and give up at this point. He was useless at this sort of thing.

Oliver laughed aloud, a fragile grin pulling his lip back to expose white teeth, the bark of a laugh getting to be a more common sound, especially when he was there.

That was when his phone rang, and he pulled his arm out of the water, drying it quickly before grabbing his phone off the counter, where the sound it was creating from vibrating against the stone was grating. He answered it casually, not knowing to expect the punch to the gut the words on the other end of the line created. The world seemed to lose focus, the rest of the conversation falling on deaf ears; the next thing Oliver remembered after answering the phone was his knees hitting the floor as he collapsed, the sharp pain it made enough to jerk him awake.

His mother had been stabbed – with what they suspected to be a sword. It couldn't be true, she couldn't –

Oliver was on his feet and out of Felicity's apartment before he had even registered his limbs moving. His phone lay on the floor where he had dropped it against the tiles; the food was still burning on the stove, and he didn't even remember if he had bothered to shut the door. Nothing that trivial seemed to matter anymore.

Slade was back. Nobody else hated him that much to make sure a low move, to try and take someone so important. He had been so happy. But he guessed that the bliss of the last few months was over now, with Slade back – there would be no time to do any of the things he had planned; to ask Felicity to move in with him permanently or fix Diggle. They were all in danger now. Slade would target every one of them, especially those closest to his heart –

_Felicity_

Her name came to him in a giddy realisation, like he had been chucked out of an airplane at thirty thousand feet only to be told that he didn't have a parachute and would have to adapt on the way down. The thing most difference since Slade had left was Oliver's relationship with Felicity. If the other man even suspected it, she was in danger. More than anyone, she was his hearts greatest treasure. Felicity. Brilliant Felicity. Beautiful Felicity. She was the thing he loved the most; now and always.

He knew straight away that he needed to get to her fast. The hospital – she would be there. With more impulse than before, Oliver slammed his foot on the breaks as he sped towards memorial hospital, both desperate to see Felicity – and terrified of what news might await him there.

* * *

**A/N: **_yeah, yeah, I know I haven't updated in days. I'm sorry. but I was re-writing and wanted to get a few chapters ahead, as the next few chapters leave giant cliffhangers & I didn't think anyone would thank me for having to wait longer between updates because I was behind on writing. this wait was the compromise. So Moira's hurt, but I'm actually not fussed as to her fate so I'll ask you to vote once more: should she live or die? Thanks in advance for your kind help! _


	29. Half a world away

** 'Half a world away'**

"No, no, no – fuck – no, stop it. No. NO!"

Listening to the joint screams and shouts from the kitchen where she was making tea, a habit she'd picked up from her sister, Lena grinned. It was the sound of a new start; of family. Finished, she walked back into the living room and remarked dryly. "It sounds like someone's being murdered in here. The neighbours will start talking."

"Screw the neighbours," Roy replied sharply, tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he spoke, furiously slamming buttons on the controller in his hand. The two boys were spread out across the small couch, both with controllers in their hands and eyes glued to the bright screen. The light was off, and the blue light washed them both out – Roy had his legs out on the small coffee table, face screwed up in concentration while Wally curled up, feet tucked under him and manic grin on his face. It was safe to say the younger kid was winning.

Lena raised her eyebrows at the comment, but left it hanging, crossing to sit on the back of the sofa and watch them play. In reality, they were both better than her at the racing game and she didn't want to embarrass herself by playing. She was happy enough just to watch, sipping her tea thoughtfully. As she did, her gaze fell on something abandoned on the coffee table, reaching forward and snatching up the piece of paper which had caught her attention before even thinking. But when she did, she heard and uncomfortable cough beside her, Wally clearly agitated by her looking, so she apologised immediately.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to nose," Lena shook her head, looking at him earnestly. "It's just . . . is this your homework?"

"I er . . . yeah," Wally admitted sheepishly, looking away and turning red. Lena's mouth fell open, impressed. The sheet she had picked up was covered in some scientific formula she couldn't even begin to understand, obviously something very advanced for his age. Whereas she looked impressed, Roy scoffed, taking the sheet from her hands and smirking at it.

"So we got a little smarty-pants, huh?" he mocked, not really meaning it. He liked the kid, really – he was funny and unassuming, and Roy had few friends. It was just how he was. "Man, we need to get you laid."

"_Roy_," Lena punched him in the arm, looking more disgusted with him than he'd ever seen her. The look on her face made him pause long enough to think twice, and shut his mouth. She turned back to Wally, who now looked like he wished the earth would swallow him just to get away from the situation. But instead of being mocking, her voice was kind, if frank. "Ignore him. This is _awesome_, really. No joke at all, I mean it – I wish I could do stuff like this. You're lucky . . . you're clever, or must be to even understand this. And if any jerks like him," she jerked a thumb at Roy, who looked guiltier by the second, "tell you any different, sock 'em right in the jaw."

"You mean it?" Wally asked. He bit his lip a little, as if hardly daring to believe her. He was so used to sarcasm that he couldn't tell if she was being sincere, but to his relief, Lena nodded vigorously, grinning.

"Really. I mean, knowing things save lives. It means you can work things out that most people can't, and you might just be thankful one day that you put the work in now. I wish I had been like you when I was your age."

"What were you like when you were my age?"

Lena's smile faltered, if only for a second. Then a forced grin was back as she put the paper back down. "Ah, just your average screw up. I dropped out of school when I was just a few months older than you, actually. Trust me, Kid – stick with this, work hard."

"Thanks, Lena," Wally grinned. He was used to feeling like a freak for being too clever, younger than most of his class since he'd skipped a few grades and teased for his knowledge all his life, most of all by his father. He'd been happier since he'd started staying over for days at a time with his aunt and Barry for almost a month now, but he still had no friends, and wondered if this is what it felt like. Lena understood from the opposite side of the spectrum, always feeling left out or stupid when talking to the others and not understanding some things. Wally added sheepishly, "although I might have trouble 'socking' anyone, I'm hardly formidable."

"Bullshit," she commented to that. "You don't have to be a big guy to swing a punch, just know how to use being smaller to your advantage. Let me show you."

"You're gonna teach the kid how to fight, and_ I'm _the bad influence?" Roy asked sarcastically, as Lena and Wally faced each other in the small room, making the girl crack a grin.

"Exactly."

After twenty minutes, Lena was satisfied that the younger boy could pack a wallop if he ever needed to. He was surprisingly eager, jumping at the chance to learn self-defence in the naive way Felicity had as well, which only made her smile harder – especially after he managed to give Roy a bloody nose. When they had started to slow down, Wally had grinned up at her, a head shorter than her. She figured he'd be taller than she was, given a few more years to grow. He said, "Thank you so much."

Nodding awkwardly in response, she started to worry more about the kid. The response he'd had – it was almost relief. Worried that there might be someone giving him a hard time at school, Roy and her shared a look saying they were going to look into it, and beat the crap out of some kids if necessary. Nobody messed with their friends. But then Lena glanced to the clock and saw it was getting late. "You'd better get to bed, Kid. Don't you have school tomorrow?"

"Aw, come on," Wally pleaded, "I'm not a 'kid' and I don't have a bedtime. Let me finish my game, at least."

In the end she had relented, and continued to watch the two boys play for another hour before the younger kid had grudgingly started to pack the game away, putting the controllers into a box beneath the TV. She had a feeling he was lonely, so smiled sympathetically when he turned to say goodbye to them, figuring they'd be long gone by the time he woke in the morning, and he'd be stuck on his own once more.

"Hey, Starling isn't too far away," she smiled, glancing to Roy, "we could come back and hang out again. I'm pretty much here weekly anyway, staying with your aunt and uncle. Or you could maybe come and see us. I mean, only if you wanted to, but-"

Wally looked at them both, wide eyed. "R-Really?"

"Yeah," Roy sighed, relenting, "You're not too bad, Kid."

"Sounds great. More than great. It sounds awesome," Wally grinned, looking a lot more relaxed than he did at the start of the night as he waved an awkward goodnight and trudged up the stairs to bed. He slept a lot better, feeling lighter than he had done in an age with a grin on his face.

Downstairs, Lena and Roy sat in silence for a few minutes in the dark. Eventually, Lena leaned over to her friend and said sadly. "I want one. Can we keep him?"

"_No_," Roy replied firmly, not cracking the smile he wanted to. At the face she made, he almost laughed, adding, "-Maybe."

* * *

Felicity got to the hospital second, after Oliver. She and Diggle ran up the stairs to the fourth floor, taking them two at a time, breathless by the time they got to the room Moira was in, seeing Oliver standing in the corridor outside, hand helplessly pressed against the glass. He looked desolate, even without needing to see his face; the way his shoulders slumped as if he had no energy to hold himself up revealed him. In that moment, as Felicity paused in the doorway to the corridor, hand on the frame, her heart broke for him. Nobody should have to go through that.

Oliver hadn't heard them coming. His ears were still ringing, ignoring the countless receptionists and doctors who had tried to speak to him when he'd first got there before giving up when they realized he wasn't listening, storming to the room where his mother was being operated on. People had been waiting, holding him back from entering the room until he eventually calmed, resigning himself to waiting just outside the door. He didn't like it, but there was no other choice. He had been there ever since. Fingers splayed against the glass, his eyes hadn't left the curtains surrounding his mother or the team of doctor's trying to save her life, and they were starting to get itchy and burn from his exhaustion. Oliver didn't want to cry, either. Not here.

It wasn't until he heard the clack of heels and turned to see Felicity running towards him, catching her in his arms and burying his face in her hair that he caved, allowing a few tears to slip down his cheeks as he held her tightly.

"Oliver, are you alright? What's going on?" she asked, leaning back to put a hand on his face to focus him, fingertips just brushing the edge of his hairline.

"She's in surgery," he answered. At seeing her, his mind had cleared enough to focus solely on her, but at Felicity's words it started to whirl again to thoughts of his mother. He was shutting down again. Diggle had watched all of this, and knew the signs intimately. He had seen it in battle before: men breaking down from too much. They started talking in sentence fragments and got a faraway look in their eyes. It was usually after an explosion that you would see it, when the world was chaos and lacking in clarity; it made people dangerous – they were not alert, not thinking straight even when there was still danger. Oliver was approaching this territory now, but Diggle knew they had to pull him back.

"Wake up, man. Speak to us," Diggle said loudly, stepping forwards as Felicity stepped back to give him room, looking the other man in the eye. He did not baby him, but spoke sharply, "what happened? What's her condition? Come on, snap out of it! You need to think."

"She was stabbed . . . with a sword. Slade. They said it didn't look hopeful, but she's not - she's not beyond help yet. She's in surgery now to repair damage to an artery." Oliver's words were still vaguely singular and unfocused, but the cogs behind his eyes were turning again now, coming back to life. Anger flickered in his gaze for a moment as he frowned, going on and gaining pace. "Slade did this. Nobody else hates me that much, or uses a sword like that – they said she was stabbed almost in half, that he twisted the blade. He's back. But he's now going to get away with this – I'll kill him. I'm going to kill him."

"Calm down," Felicity said, putting a hand on his forearm. He was shaking with rage. She didn't like it when he got like this – he was her hero, but sometimes he scared her. "Killing him or going on some sort of rampage isn't going to solve anything right now."

"It might make me feel better."

"It won't," she told him. "Right now, you don't need to be a killer. You need to be a brother." He looked up sharply at her words, meeting her eyes, and of course she was right. "Your sister could be here any minute – she needs you. If this was Slade, it does mean he's back, yes – but getting yourself killed by going after him won't help anybody. We're here for you. When we know more, we'll take Slade down – but to prison. Killing isn't the answer here. Violence is a circle, and the more you take away from each other, the circle just goes on; the only way to break it is to win another way."

"What if we _can't_ win another way?" Oliver asked, words bursting out of his mouth. To him, they sounded angry, but Felicity's gaze faltered in pity at the desperation behind them. Sighing and ducking his head down, he took her hands gently, "If he's coming for the people I love . . . well, you're high on the list. You were always were, but now people know it; I can't lose you. He might try to hurt you, Felicity. If it means saving you . . . there's nothing I wouldn't do."

"Maybe you should let me take care of myself," Felicity replied carefully, poking him on the arm. "I don't want you to kill for me, or die for me. That's the last thing in the world . . ." she trailed off in pain. When she looked back up after a pause, this time looking at both of them, she looked determined. "If Slade is going to come for me, he's going to come for me. Let him. I'm not afraid of him. But we've got to end this, and not by killing – we can break the circle. Us three, our team, fighting just like we always have."

"Sounds like you have a plan," Diggle commented, almost smiling at her. Felicity was braver than she thought she was.

"I don't. I'd be lying if I said I did," she admitted, shaking her head. "But we've faced hard times before, and we're still standing. I know we can do this. I believe in us."

"Felicity, have I told you that you're amazing?" Oliver asked. When she looked at him, he was watching her softly, face creased into an unbelieving smile. He was hopeful on a day one of his worst nightmares had come to pass; she was the cause. She had a way of making everything brighter.

She only creased her lips up at that, "I don't mind hearing it again."

He had just leaned forwards to kiss her when Thea appeared at the doors behind her back, and Oliver moved instead towards his sister. Tears streaked her face and she stumbled as she walked, practically falling into the hug he wrapped her in. Thea sobbed into his chest as he vaguely explained what was going on to her, having to leave out a lot because she didn't know about Slade. But Sara did, and as Thea leaned on his shoulder he could see her, face falling at the words as all of the blood drained from her face. Slade haunted her just as much as him. They shared a look of solidarity at the fact.

Beside her, Laurel was as ignorant to the threat as Thea, but looked horrified when she heard about Moira. Slowly, she reached over and took her sister's hand, noticing Sara's growing distress, and Oliver was glad for them. They must have looked after Thea on the way here, he was grateful for that. In the corridor were the people he trusted most in the world, the ones he needed right then, as his mother lay dying. The small, but strong, family he had forged. He loved them all.

But his gaze swivelled back to Felicity, waiting with Diggle further down the corridor. He looked at her to find her eyes already on him, the green locking onto his face. Her hair was coming out of the ponytail she wore it in, strands blowing lose and blowing into her eyes, and he loved her. He couldn't lose her. He had to keep her in his sights. Oliver couldn't let Slade take her away; Felicity was his heart.

Seeing Oliver embrace Thea, planting a kiss on her forehead and protectively encircling her in his arms, Felicity thought of her own sister. She knew Lena and Roy were in Central, and might be safer out of the way – but she also knew they needed to be warned. She didn't want her sister here when it wasn't safe, but she also knew Lena wouldn't want to be anywhere else but beside them, fighting. Pulling free her phone, she called, but received no answer. A spark of worry flared up in her chest before she quelled it, telling herself that they were probably too busy or Lena's phone was off.

By the end of the night, Felicity had left nine voicemails and six messages. There still was no answer.

* * *

Lena and Roy were sitting cross-legged on the living room floor playing cards when Barry walked back into his house. The deck lay between them, and they each had a series of cards in their hands, which they were pulling devious faces over, Lena with a small pile of bills by her left foot. It was clear she was the superior card player. They lowered their cards as he walked in, grinning up at him.

"How'd it go, Sparky?" Lena asked, checking him over quickly for injuries and not seeing anything obvious at first glance. "Save the world?"

"Something like that. How did it go here?" Barry asked. He'd walked in alone, but both of the teenagers could hear two voices just outside the door, spiking curiosity in them.

"Great, we had a ball," Roy replied, tone dry. When Barry raised a questioning eyebrow to that, the boy sighed and gestured wildly to his card companion. "I think she's decided that we're adopting your nephew."

"Shut it, Harper," Lena chirped, chucking a card at him. "All I did was promise that we'd hang out with him again. I think he's lonely."

"Me too," Barry admitted, frowning thoughtfully, "you'd really look out for him?"

"Of course. I don't make promises I don't intend to keep and he's a sweet kid – smarter than he lets on and actually a laugh. We'll really come back."

Barry looked too grateful for words, nodding once at them, "thank you. Both of you."

"I didn't have a choice in the matter really, but you're welcome," Roy said. He sounded bitter, but when Lena kicked him in the side gently, he almost cracked a smile, sighing dramatically instead. "Fine! The kid wasn't the annoying little brat I thought he would be. You happy?"

"Ecstatic," Lena smiled back. She turned back to Barry, her smile a little more sympathetic. Loneliness she could understand. "Consider us his new cousins. We'll look after him; be his best friends."

"Speaking of which, I promised you could meet mine," Barry reminded himself. He held out a hand towards the door leading to the garden, implying they should go outside, "come on."

She snorted indignantly, "I thought _I_ was your best friend!"

"Pack it in," Barry laughed in response, shoving Lena by the head as she passed, which only made them both laugh harder as she stumbled out of the door. It was dark out, a chill just catching on the air. Roy was glad of his hoodie, heading out before the others. Because of this, he saw Barry's 'friend' first, freezing and knocking the still laughing Lena in the chest to stop her, earning him a sharp look before she too looked up and froze, mouth open.

There was a man floating in Barry's garden. He was entirely glowing green.

"Holy shit," she cursed loudly, lips twitching up into a smile. "Who the hell is this, the Green Glowstick?"

The man looked offended, mouth falling open beneath his mask as he wavered slightly in the air, "That's Green Lantern, you little-"

"He's cool," Barry said, waving to the green man, who grinned back. "GL, these are my friends Lena and Roy. Guys – this is the Green Lantern."

"Right . . . and he is?" Roy asked. His face was turned up in surprise, his eyebrows in sarcasm.

"Just a man with a ring," the Lantern replied, landing next to the second man in the garden, and old guy who was smiling cheerily at them all. He had wrinkles and a face which screamed 'grandfather', just from the wise benevolence waiting behind his eyes. When he touched down, the Lantern's light died, and he walked towards them and extended a hand, followed by the older man. "I've heard a lot about you, it's nice to finally put a face to the stories."

"We'd say the same, but Barry didn't mention you until tonight," Roy shrugged as he shook the hand. Lena did likewise and shot Barry a smug look at the words, the Lantern laughing at how easily the teens joked with the Flash.

"I'm Hal, by the way," he added, and suddenly his mask and costume disappeared, replaced with civilian clothing. In dark jeans and a brown leather jacket, dark hair messy and grin wide, he looked a little bit gorgeous. Lena gasped, but not for that reason.

"Holy shit," she said again. But she looked horrified this time.

"I'm used to women being astounded at my good looks, but usually they don't look so terrified when they're doing it," Hal Jordan said, looking around confusedly. Lena was giving Roy a bug-eyed look, which after a brief moment of misunderstanding he returned, mouth falling open before he clapped a hand over it.

"Barry can I have a word please?" Lena said in a single breath, stalking off without even waiting for an answer. She walked over to the other side of the garden and waited with her back to the others, Barry ran over to her a moment or two later, leaning close and whispering.

"What's wrong with you? You're never this freaked out."

The others glanced over at Barry and Lena's turned backs. They looked like they were having an argument, whispering furiously and gesturing about wildly. Eventually, after several glances and awkward smiles back at the waiting group, they walked back together.

"Is someone gonna explain what that was about?" Hal asked, looking between the two.

"Nothing" Lena said, just as Barry also chimed.

"She stole something from you years ago so she thinks this is awkward."

"You son of a -" Lena broke up to slap Barry across the back of his head. He moved forwards with the momentum of the blow and pulled a face as she glared at him, cheeks flaring red as she glanced back up at the Lantern, who just looked amused by it all. "It was a really long time ago – like two years, and I was in a really bad position and had to look after my mom and -"

Hal held up a hand, "hey, don't sweat it. Whatever it was, I'm over it; you're forgiven. What was it, anyway?"

"Um, part of a plane engine. It wasn't technically yours . . . you were just there when I took it from the Ferris place."

"Wait," Hal stepped back, impressed. "You're the thief from two years ago? The one they could never catch?" When Lena looked sheepish in response, wincing, he laughed. "That's quite a resume."

"If it helps, I use my skills to totally kick bad-guy ass in Starling nowadays."

"I'm sure I'll hear all about it," Hal smirked, looking her over in an approving way. Somehow, Lena had forgotten to change from her court clothes so was still in the short skirt and blouse . . . which made her look older than she actually was. She noticed the look and smiled back, until Barry walked between them and looked at them both.

"No," the speedster said in a low tone. He glared at them, and got two looks of feigned innocence back.

"What?" Hal and Lena asked in unison.

"You both know what you were doing – stop it," Barry warned, looking back around the circle they had loosely formed for a distraction. There was no way he was watching his two best friends flirt, not tonight.

The older man stepped forwards then, finally speaking, "I'm-"

"Jay Garrick, the first Flash," Lena burst out, then instantly looked embarrassed for answering for him. She shook his hand rather vigorously, cheeks burning, "I'm sorry, it's just I've heard a lot about you. The work you did in the war was amazing, sir."

"How come he gets 'sir' and I get 'Glowstick'?" Hal demanded, jerking a thumb at Jay and looking put out. Lena pouted at him in response.

"He's a war hero."

"I'm a hero, I deserve respect!"

"Then earn some," she challenged, twitching both an eyebrow and her lip in a smirk, tilting her head as she spoke. It was the picture of sass, the two of them locking gazes and holding it for a little too long.

"I told you to stop that!" Barry hissed at them both, and suddenly they were all laughing. Jay looked extremely pleased at the recognition, smiling at her all the brighter.

"That's right, miss. It's nice to be known, in all honestly – Barry here's the hero now," Jay said, putting a hand on Barry's shoulder, and they looked like father and son. Maybe speed was stronger than blood. "I've had my days. But if you want to hear about them, maybe I could tell you next time you stay with Barry and Iris."

"I'd love that! I mean - yes please, sir."

"I look forward to it," the old Flash smiled, but then looked around at them. "Why don't you kids go out and get to know one another better, I'll stay here with Wally."

Barry frowned, "What? No, we couldn't ask-"

"I insist," Jay said, already walking towards the house. "You never get a night off, Barry, so take one. Go out somewhere with your friends and try to have a good time – go on, shoo."

He waved them away, disappearing through the kitchen and leaving the unlikely group alone in the back garden. After a brief panicked paused, Lena glanced over to the others. "So . . . Smoke Room?"

It was a popular bar in the city, and Barry didn't even want to know how she knew it. "You want to go to a bar?"

"What? You've just been in a fight – have a drink. Relax a little."

"I agree," Hal chimed in, grinning. When they both turned to Roy, he just shrugged, so Hal turned back to Barry triumphantly. "Majority ruling – let's go, buddy."

With expectations ranging from low to high, they started walking towards the bar in a line, chatting comfortably as steam rose up from their mouths. Lena still hadn't checked her phone, turned off in her pocket; the missed calls and texts remained that way as the night drew to a close.

* * *

**A/N: **_my favourite parts to write in this chapter were 'violence is a circle' and 'who the hell is that? The Green Glowstick?' because they just felt very right to me. I enjoyed writing them. This chapter is of course from the Oasis song of the same name, as it is on the playlist I listen to when writing. If anyone is interested in hearing it, ask on my tumblr. But I doubt anyone's that interested in all honesty. let me know what you think! :)_


	30. The way I tend to be

**'The way I tend to be'**

Hal and Lena were drunk. It was just gone midnight and Central City was starting to get fun as they sat on a table at the club, the music quiet at that moment and a lot of people sitting around them talking. They were doing pretty much the same, swapping stories of their fights and bad jokes, all of them laughing quite a lot; even Barry was enjoying himself, who had stayed relatively sober to try and keep an eye on them.

The only one who didn't seem too pleased was Roy. He had been pleasant enough once he'd asserted himself as being a tough guy with a handful of sarcastic comments and detachment, but was soon telling stories like the rest of them, ones even Lena didn't know about life in Starling before she had got there. But every few minutes he'd check his phone, knowing the battery had died hours ago. He just felt bad – he'd promised to call Thea. It kept distracting him from having a good time, and it wasn't a bad night – Hal Jordan was a lot like him; scrappy and slightly callous. He was also a rich playboy and complete womaniser, flirting with every girl in sight, which was less relatable, but he wasn't a bad guy. He also had an odd respect for Barry, who might be completely vanilla but could handle himself in a fight if necessary, and had a good heart. He might just be the best of them all.

Lena and Hal, on the other hand, had given in and gotten completely drunk for no reason other than they'd been given the opportunity to, between them having just enough stowed crap and self-hatred that this sort of behaviour wasn't too unusual. They had been laughing non-stop, a happy pair of drunks if ever you saw them. Having every reason to be crying, they instead told funny stories and laughed, making the night better, which probably said a lot about them as people.

Hal was laughing, gesturing wildly with his arms, "so I'm butt-naked apart from the mask and the ring, and -"

"That never happened, Hal," Barry shook his head, chuckling.

"Yes it did!"

"Yeah, right."

"I'm telling you, it happened! And even worse, before I had the chance to explain myself the council of guardians walked right in, too-"

"So you really have an entire planet of superheroes like you?" Roy asked, "What's it called? Uh-ah?"

"Oa, dumbass," Hal replied. "And yeah. Maybe I'll take you kids one day – we could always use new recruits, and I hear you're alright in a fight."

"We've already got a city to save, the entire universe is out of our league," Lena replied dryly to that, quelling Roy's hopeful look. She knew he just wanted to get a ring and fly.

Hal looked at her and smirked again, "something tells me that's not true at all."

It was all going well until the lights cut out in the bar. Leaving them in darkness for a few seconds, there was only time for a few complaints before a spotlight appeared on a small stage in the corner of the room. Lights started flashing, loud music blaring suddenly.

Lena glanced around, her face bewildered but flashing with amusement, "is this strip club?"

"Worse," Barry replied, as someone from the crowd got up on stage and was handed a microphone, "karaoke."

* * *

After three hours, they had pulled some chairs into the corridor outside Moira's hospital room, starting to settle in. It was obvious they could be there all night. It was already dark outside, spreading into the hospital itself - the lights were dim and flickering, leaving them in a troubled semi-darkness, halfway into the light.

Oliver sat on one of the chairs with Felicity sitting on the arm of it and leaning against him, fingers stroking his back constantly although she didn't seem aware that she was doing it. Laurel sat in another chair with Sara sitting on the floor at its feet, Thea beside them on the third chair and slumped over, head in her hands. Every now and again the Lance sisters would pat her back reassuringly. Thea kept checking her phone, expecting a call from Roy or a reply to her texts telling him about her mother, but it remained motionless, leaving her feeling cut off. She needed him so badly, and he wasn't there. Only Diggle remained standing, appointing himself as their sentry and planting his feet near the wall, the place with the best view down the corridor. He had a gun in his holster, and tensed every time someone walked down the corridor – wordlessly, he had decided that Oliver was in no state to worry about whether or not they were safe there, so had decided that he would protect them and be ready in case anything happened.

"I always hated hospitals," Felicity said sometime in the early hours of the morning. Her voice was quiet but frank, she needed to break the foreboding silence or else she'd go mad. "I think it's the smell. Not of sickness, but antiseptic and cleaning fluids – it always smells so clinical. Like it's not even a real place. Real places – home – it smells like last night's dinner or candles or old perfume. Hospitals just smell . . . empty."

"Cinnamon," Oliver said, not even raising his head.

"Hmmnn?"

"Your place," he explained, looking up while squeezing their interlocked hands, "it always smells like cinnamon."

She smiled at that kindly, resting their foreheads together for the briefest of seconds as Oliver's eyes flickered shut. As their heads touched in comfort, he breathed out in the relief it brought him to feel her there, so close. Hands and head intertwined, he thought for a moment about how the smell of cinnamon conjured images of home to him.

Thea spoke up, half of a smile in her words which didn't reach her face. "Well you guys are lucky . . . Roy's place always smells like something just died in there." Felicity and Oliver detached themselves to look up and chuckle at that, as did the Lance sisters and Diggle. Sara even patted her on the knee. Thea twitched a smile, "boys: they never learn how to clean. It's not that hard."

"I suppose that's why hospitals feel odd, too," Laurel said thoughtfully. Since her sister was sitting on the floor, head against her knees, she was absent-mindedly playing with Sara's hair. "They're too clean. There are no family photos or piles of books or signs of life – just white walls and uncomfortable chairs." She shifted on her own chair to make her complaint more obvious. "It's like nobody actually lives here, even though some do. It's not like a home."

Felicity laughed in agreement, sharing a smile with the other woman. "My mom always used to say that a house wasn't a home until it was ninety percent clutter."

"She wasn't wrong."

"Maybe we should complain, you know, tell them to put up some pictures of kid's drawings," the blonde suggested, mouth pursed downwards, "might help this place seem more real."

"There are pictures up in the children's ward," Diggle spoke up from the corner. He was standing with his arms crossed, head against the glass, and only cracked his eyes open an inch to speak to them. "Apparently they thought the same as you, because the place is plastered with drawings that some of the long-term patients did."

"How do you know that?" Thea asked.

"I volunteer here sometimes, when I have the odd day off from watching your brother's dumb ass. I uh, I never had kids, apart from looking after my nephew sometimes so I like to come up here and play with the little ones. They're sweet," he paused.

"I didn't know you did that," Sara said, looking to the others. The only one who looked unsurprised was Felicity, who had known for months. She had even come up with her friend once or twice, but hospitals always reminded her of her mother's illness, and she couldn't bear to be in them for longer than a few hours. She was starting to itch to get out now, but stayed for Oliver's sake.

Diggle shrugged, "I don't really do much. Talk to them, mostly – kids say the funniest things. I play with them if they're able, read to them sometimes too. They're good kids. They deserve longer than a lot of them get."

"Everyone does. That's life," Oliver said. He had been quiet for a while, and his words were so bitter that they all looked over to him in surprise. He was sitting tensely in his chair, right hand so tight on the arm that his knuckles were white. When he looked up and saw their distressed faced, he softened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"You're right," Diggle shrugged, "everyone thinks they've got more time – to say things or do things – but they don't. Not always. Which is why it's important to do and say everything you mean; that way you have no regrets."

"Well in that case," Sara put a hand over her heart and looked at the standing man with a smile, "I love you, Diggle."

"I know," he chuckled back, throwing her a wink. All of them laughed at the joke, the conversation needed lightening, and Sara managed it perfectly. They had all been getting too wrapped up in their own finite natures, Oliver particularly brooding, but that wasn't what they needed right then. They needed to laugh, because crying wasn't going to help Moira – that wasn't their fight anymore, only the doctors could help now.

It was shaping out to be a long night.

* * *

Barry put his head in his hands, laughing his ass off. Beside him, Roy was sitting rigidly, his original joking gone and replaced by something akin to fear. The lights were still down around them, making the whites of his eyes more pronounced. He leaned over to put a hand on the red-faced Barry's arm.

"We should stop them. We're gonna stop them, right?"

"No way," Barry laughed, taking a sip of his bottle of beer. "They want to make complete asses of themselves, I'm not gonna stop them. I'm going to enjoy the show."

"This is a really bad idea," Roy said.

"Oh, come on," Barry replied to his dire face, "What's the worst that could happen?"

"You say that now . . ."

"Shhhh, they're about to start. I'd start recording if I were you."

Roy tilted his head like he was annoyed, but complied, levelling his phone towards the dimly lit stage, as Hal and Lena took to it, unsteady on their feet from the amount of alcohol in their blood. They held on to one another until they stood in front of the microphones on the stage, swaying even before the music began. When it did, they started grinning as they sang badly, out of key. It was the best worst version of 'livin' on a prayer' ever to be seen. Lena forgot the words sometime in the second verse and trailed off, biting her lip in confusion, but Hal sang strongly for the entire song – his voice would have sounded half-decent if it wasn't for the slur and drunken loudness. Roy got the entire thing on tape. It would make for excellent blackmail later.

But before they could finish the song, Hal got distracted by the applause and sarcastic cheering from the few people in the room and began to badly dance, making Barry howl in laughter. In fact, Hal got so wound up that he leaned into the microphone and announced: "I'm gonna strip."

"Do it," Lena agreed immediately next to him, grinning her head off; Barry stopped laughing as soon as Hal started taking his shirt off. The speedster ran to the stage and pulled his best friend off it before he had the chance to carry out on his threat; they all were all promptly thrown out of the bar.

Out on the street, the laughter doubled as they began to walk vaguely towards home. Barry was already worrying what they were going to do – there was no way Lena and Roy were going home that drunk, Oliver would kill him, and he sure as hell wasn't letting Hal fly in that state. They'd have to cram into his living room and share the floor or sofa. His thoughts were distracted, however, when Lena staggered over to him.

"Did you see that, Barry?" she asked excitedly.

"Yeah, I did," he nodded back, trying to put his arm around her to steady her, but she was already moving, grabbing his hand and twirling under it gracefully, like a dance. He laughed at that. It was nice to see her so blissfully, obliviously happy. Sometimes he worried about her – scratch that, he always worried about her: there was something eating at her that she hadn't told them, and he hadn't worked out what it was yet. Until he did, there was nothing he could do but worry, so it was nice to see a smile for a change. When she continued twirling and nearly fell, Barry noticed Hal was falling over, guiding the girl towards their fourth companion, "hey, why don't you go talk to Roy over there? I need to go stop Hal from breaking those perfect teeth of his."

"Okay," Lena agreed, and stumbled over to Roy, who saw her coming and caught her gently when she got to him, face momentarily irritated. Once she was standing again, he let her walk by herself, keeping close to her side with his hands out in case she fell, like you would do with a toddler learning to walk. She looked over at him, voice slurred but sure, "you're pretty awesome, you know?"

Roy's irritation was vaporised by the honesty in her words, and he reminded himself that she was his best friend, any sourness he had about having to look after her since it was her own fault she was in this state vanishing. He smirked now, finding amusement in the situation. "I like to think so."

"No, I- I mean it," she said, stopping to stare at him. Roy embarrassedly pushed her shoulder to make her start walking again, but she went on with the same passion as she'd spoken before with. "You're fuckin' – awesome. Like so, so, so, so awesome. I don't deserve friends like you, but you – you're my buddy anyway! That's more than – more than I could . . . it doesn't matter. But you should hate me. Really. And you don't. And look at your pretty face and everything."

"Lena-"

"You're a – a better person than me. You won't believe me, and I know you won't because you're violent and self-hating even when you've not done much wrong, but you are good. You derserve to be Red Arrow, like you sometimes call yourself. I know I call you Speedy to piss you off, but you're a hero just as, just as much as Ollie – Oliver. You're a hero. Not a," she broke off to snigger, completely missing the seriousness on his face, like he was frozen. "Not a sidekick. Or some petty thief, like you used to be. You're better – better - so much better than that. Pretty fuckin' awesome, if you ask me."

"Thanks, idiot," Roy said. He was joking, pulling her to his side and looping an arm around her to help her walk as he did so, but kept up his usual attitude. He never let it show how much the words meant to him, but showed his affection for them when she put her head on his shoulder, letting her walk that way until they got back to the Allen house. "You're not so bad yourself."

"We both know that's not true."

Looking over, he saw Hal and Barry doing a similar thing, although in their case the speedster seemed to be holding his friend up, Hal barely able to stand. From the looks on their faces, they were having a conversation of drunken honestly, too.

Roy squeezed Lena comfortingly, his voice coming out in puffs of white smoke as he half- hugged her. "Don't worry," he said softly, "I'm going to look after you."

* * *

At the hospital, it was approaching three in the morning. Oliver, Felicity, the Lance sisters, Thea and Diggle were still camped outside Moira Queens hospital room; they had been given no news yet. Waiting was all they had. Thea had fallen asleep in her chair a few hours ago, but the rest of them remained awake, in varying states of exhaustion and despair and fear.

It had been a boring few hours until all of the lights blacked out.

"What's going on?" Laurel asked, getting immediately to her feet and looking around. That's when the screams started, sounding several floors below them, but loud and ragged. Thea jerked awake at the sound.

"I don't know," Oliver answered, and it was only half a lie. He had a feeling Slade was somehow involved in leaving them blind, but he didn't know exactly why – yet. "Stay here, I'll go find out."

"No, please – Oliver," Thea grabbed his arm to stop him, begging, "please don't leave me too."

"I have to go find out what's going on," he held her gently by the shoulder, dropping a kiss onto her forehead. "I'll be fine – stay here with Sara, and run if anyone gets up here, okay? Can you do that? Promise me?"

"Y-Yes."

He walked off, Diggle instinctively following him. Sara came a few moments later, feet slapping against the floor. When they got to the stairwell, Oliver grabbed a bag he'd left in a bin, pulling on his own hood while throwing Sara her mask, flexing the bow in his hands. He remarked, "You should have stayed with them."

"They'll be fine," Sara replied with a toss of her hair, "they're safe as long as we don't let anyone make it up there to hurt them. Don't you agree?"

Now it was Oliver's turn to smile. But it wasn't his usual one accompanying a smile, or his fake one, used to hide his feelings – this was an entire new grimace. He was not okay, and hadn't been all day. His mother had been shot; his enemy was back; and he really, really wanted to punch something. This was a smile in anticipation of this wish being granted.

So when they got to the bottom floor to find it swarming with Mirikuru soldiers, all wearing masks like Slade's, Oliver only smiled more. This was exactly what he needed.

Letting lose an arrow and a cry, Oliver ran towards the army.

* * *

Upstairs, Laurel, Felicity and Thea were crouching in an alcove opposite Moira's room, flinching at every sound of the fight downstairs. Thea and Laurel had tried to barge off to find their siblings twice already, having to be reminded of their promises by Felicity, who felt a guilty rush of relief that her own sister wasn't there. It didn't sound good. And she was blind, having nothing but her phone to help them – the one use she had, gone. That might have been the reason that when they heard a noise in the stairwell, she got to her feet. She had to do something.

"Stay here," she told the other two women, pressing her phone into Laurel's hand and exchanging a look with her. She had noticed Laurel watching her and Oliver that night. It was clear that the other woman still cared a great deal about her ex – just not in the same way, not anymore. Laurel had even smiled and nodded on catching Felicity's eye that night. "You have your promises to keep, but I don't. I'm just going to take a look. I'll be back, okay?"

"No, you can't go," Thea begged. She didn't want anyone else to leave her tonight.

"I'll be right back," Felicity said, forcing a smile. As she got to her feet, her knees shook a little. Shooting Laurel a look to remind her to look after Thea, that they both owed Oliver that, Felicity started to walk away from them, into the darkness down the corridor.

She tried to remember everything Lena had been teaching her. Switching her stance, Felicity began to walk like a marine, crossing her feet delicately in front of her and holding her hands up, ready to fight if she needed to, back against the wall.

At the stairwell, even the emergency lights have flickered out, and with her eyesight she could barely see her hand in front of her face. Forcing a calm over herself and refusing to feel fear, Felicity started making her way slowly down the stairs, relying on her other senses to check for danger. She couldn't smell anything but antiseptic, which was good – no blood meant no fighting had happened here. But faintly, she could hear breathing. Bad. Definitely bad.

When the first man attacked, she was ready. Felicity struck out strongly towards his throat, stopping him from calling out for help before sweeping him off his feet, a crushing blow to the temple enough to put him out. For the briefest of moments Felicity was able to feel pride at her victory, before two more men stepped out of the shadows and came for her. Now she was panicking, knowing she no longer had the advantage of an even fight – but she still had the advantage of them underestimating her.

She fought well, in the end. Felicity took out another four men after the two with a combination of skill and luck, barely believing it was really her doing this, before a familiar voice spoke out from the shadows; accented and rough.

"Enough," Slade Wilson barked, stepping forwards until she could see his outline, taller than her by far. He was looking at her appraisingly, and she felt her skin begin to crawl. "I see you've improved your skill-set, Miss Smoak. I'm impressed."

"Yeah?" Felicity asked, not knowing why the mocking words were coming out of her, "well why don't you come a little closer and I'll show you exactly how good I've got."

Slade laughed at that, a hearty but wet sound, as she freaked out. Sassing people attacking her was not a good idea. It sounded more like something her sister would do. "And she's got fire, too," Slade chuckled, sounding more and more pleased, "I can see why Oliver likes you. Unfortunately for him, that will be his undoing."

"You underestimate him, and me," Felicity told him, only an edge of fear creeping into her voice as he got closer. "You won't win, Slade. Don't you see? Even if you – even if you kill me, there's no way you survive this. There's no way you live to see whatever victory you think you'll achieve."

"Such faith. How will Oliver cope without you?"

"He's stronger than you think he is," Felicity said, voice becoming soft. She was smiling, despite the absurdity of it. It seemed to irritate Slade. She threw her arms out, "So come on! Take your best shot. He'll take his, when the time comes."

With a snarl at her defiance, Slade charged towards Felicity – who moved too quickly for him, ducking under his arm before his fist could connect with her face. Throwing a punch towards his kidney, Felicity jumped and slammed both of her palms into the sides of Slade's face, on his ears – the disorientating effect was instant. Slade whirled around to face her, looking shocked that she'd managed to fight back, and she took the opportunity to punch him in the nose. Feeling the crunch of bone beneath her fingers, Felicity knew she had made a mistake – how many times had Lena told her never to go for the face? But she had overstepped, just wanting the satisfaction of the sucker punch, and now Felicity was going to pay the price for it as Slade seemed to come to his senses, advancing on her before she could react.

The last thing Felicity felt was a hand over her mouth and a pain in her head as she wildly kicked out, terror filling her in those last few seconds. She had lost. The last thing she could think of before things went dark was of Oliver's face, how she was leaving him –

* * *

Oliver finished off the fight, just as he had started it. His hands were bloody from dealing out blows, all of his pent-up frustration being released on whoever and whatever stood in his way. He was terrifying when he got like that. Standing amid the bodies, bow in his hand and almost out of arrows, he scanned the area for more threats and found none, seeing Diggle and Sara start to make their way towards him in the aftermath.

But then the automatic doors of the hospital clicked open, revealing a final soldier standing there. Oliver had pulled the bowstring tight in a heartbeat, arrow aimed at the man's head. But all the soldier did was hold up a mobile phone and toss it to Oliver, who lowered his arrow to catch it. By the time he looked up, the man was gone. When the phone rang, he answered in immediately.

"Slade?" Oliver asked, voice rough. Hearing no answer, he shouted, "Slade!"

There was a chuckle of amusement from the other end of the phone, distinctly belonging to just the man he was shouting. Slade said only a few words, condescending and low, "You really shouldn't have left that poor girl alone."

Then Felicity screamed in the background of the call.

The line went dead.

* * *

**A/N: **_I really wanted to not have a completely doom-and-gloom chapter, so I hope you managed to laugh at Lena and Hal doing karaoke. Sorry about the cliffhanger. Really. Maybe you should leave some kind words to encourage me to get the next chapter up quickly!_

**A/N 2: **_I forgot: all rights go to the CW, DC comics and Arrow. Also Bon Jovi for the song ref._


	31. Seize and destroy

**'Seize and destroy'**

"Arghh," Lena woke up with a groan. As her eyes opened a fraction of a centimetre, she made another noise of protest and covered them with her hand, attempting to sit up without having to open them again. She was aware of the softness beneath her of the couch, a blanket covering her legs, so sat up with her head in her hands until it stopped spinning. She really shouldn't have drank that much: her throat tasted like ash when she swallowed, scratching unpleasantly and making her gag. It wasn't until she heard a laugh that she looked up again, to find Roy smirking in front of her, holding out a glass of water.

"Here, drink this," he said, pressing it into her palms and looking too smug. She scowled, but complied, glancing around the room this time. Roy was just sitting up from a pillow on the floor, where she assumed he'd slept – feeling suddenly guilty and grateful that he'd let her sleep on the more comfortable couch, she smiled at him for the gesture.

"Thanks, Roy."

"It's no problem."

"No, really," she caught his eye and nodded, "thank you."

"If you guys are going to act all sappy and hug, please give me a warning so I can leave the room." The voice startled them both, and their eyes jumped to the third figure in the room. Hal was lying face down on the carpet. But he looked up at that moment, looking just as bad as Lena felt. "After last night I feel sick enough as it is without having to see that."

"Good morning to you, too," Roy greeted sarcastically.

"Is it?"

"Well, it is for those of us who didn't act like sad old drunks last night."

"Less of the 'old'," Hal snapped, frowning. He thought about it for a minute, and the frown deepened. "Actually, less of the 'drunk' too - I could kick your ass into space."

"Try it, I dare you," Roy got to his feet and grinned even more superiorly. He wasn't afraid of the Green Lantern. It was hard to be afraid of anyone when you'd seen them collapse on their faces after singing karaoke badly. "If you do, the video of your little escapade last night goes on youtube."

"Oh so that's how it is?"

"That's how it is," Roy nodded, as they engaged in a staring contest. It was a typical displaying their masculinity thing, which made Lena shake her head at them. Boys.

Eventually, Hal grinned, "you're good, kid."

"But I'm your favourite, right?" Lena checked.

"'Course, babe," Hal smirked over at her. She winked back in response and nodded confidently, getting to her feet as Roy groaned. He wiped a hand over his brow.

"You two are gonna be a nightmare, aren't you?"

"Of course," Hal and Lena replied in synch, exchanging a nod and a fist bump. Something had just clicked between them, a friendship without words based on laughing and suffering. Hal could see the pain in her, and recognised it. He also knew why she was constantly cracking jokes. So he played along, pissed off the others with her; gained a friend in a night. After all, you don't sing bad Bon Jovi covers with a person and not end up close.

"Breakfast sounds good right about now," he said, "I wonder if Barry made any."

"I did," came a voice from the kitchen, and they all headed in to see Jay and Barry sitting on a small table, a third bowl already finished with, presumably Wally's before he had gone to school. As they walked in, Barry smiled at them in a cruel way, enjoying this way too much. "But not for you."

"Bar-_ry_," Hal moaned, putting on his moth pathetic face, "you're not mad, are you?"

"Oh no, I'm not mad. I'm just not sympathetic - there's a difference. You did this to yourselves."

Hal pouted, "pettiness isn't attractive, Allen."

"Neither is throwing up on the sidewalk."

"I did that?"

Barry rolled his eyes, "among other things. I was scandalised. You're a dog, Hal."

"We're sorry," Lena spoke up, pleading with her eyes. "But we love you and you might not think it right now, but you love us too and your French toast is the best in the world. Please?"

"Flattery and flirting," Barry remarked, but a tiny smile was twitching on his face. "Is that always how you get what you want?"

"Well sometimes a gun's involved too, but that's not worth mentioning."

"Come on Barry," Jay laughed, motioning to the remaining seats around the table for them to sit. "Have pity. Look at those sad faces, can you really say no to them?"

"Yes," Barry said coldly, but pulled an extra plate of toast from behind a plant in the middle of the table. He'd planned on giving it them all along, and Lena grinned widely as she grabbed a piece hungrily, scarping it down in seconds. Jay noticed this, and chuckled.

"Quite an appetite you got there, the only person I know who eats that fast is Barry," the only man laughed kindly, making Lena cringe at her untidy eating and slow down, putting down her piece of toast. "Are you sure you're not a speedster?"

Lena laughed, but her eyes tightened, something which only Barry noticed. The world always moved slowly for him, which allowed him to pick up on people's micro-reactions very well, the ones usually masked in seconds which nobody saw. But there was definitely something else to it as she laughed. "No, sir. Just a hungry, hungover teenager over here."

"Same thing," Jay joked, earning him a look from Barry. It was odd that sitting eating breakfast with two superheroes, one retired hero, and two kids learning to become heroes should have felt awkward, but it didn't. It was normal. Almost like they were just another family sitting down for breakfast.

Once they were done, Roy caught Lena's eye over the table. "Hey, can I borrow your phone for a minute? Mine died last night and I was supposed to call Thea."

He'd convinced himself it wasn't worth the teasing he'd receive from her to ask, but changed his mind, wanting to make the call and keep his promise. As he expected, she smirked at the request, tilting her head to one side. "Awwww, missing her after just one night? You are the smittenest kitten I've ever seen, Harper."

"Shut it," he scowled, snatching the offered phone and turning it on. "Don't forget you're on that video, too."

She stayed quiet after that, the colour draining from her face. Roy smirked in his victory as the phone in his hand came to life in a blaze of light – but instantly started vibrating with dozens of missed calls and messages. Roy bit his lip as he held up the phone, catching her attention again.

"Lena? You've got 32 missed calls."

"What?" she looked panicked as she snatched the phone back, the words attracting the attention of the older three men on the table. Almost out of habit, Lena got to her feet as soon as she got the phone back and took a few steps away from them, scanning the first few texts quickly. She turned to Roy, "Moira Queen's been stabbed."

"When? What happened?" Roy demanded, getting to his feet in an instant. "Is Thea okay?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything yet!"

"Call Oliver," he growled, "now. We should never have come."

"Wait, Moira Queen? The billionaire? What does she have to do with anything?" The Green Lantern asked, looking between them. Only he and Jay didn't know the secret about who the Arrow was.

"Not now, Hal!" Lena snapped at him, looking back at Roy. She carried on like there had been no interruption, "We couldn't have known this was going to happen, this isn't our fault." Lena shook her head as she keyed on Oliver's number, putting it to her ear as it rang out. Turning back to Roy as she waited, she met his gaze, both of them doing the math, "It's Slade's."

"He's back," Roy agreed, face still with rage. That was when Oliver picked up his phone, and the girl held up a finger to answer it, listening closely to whatever he was saying on the other end. He saw her face freeze and her stop breathing, reaching forwards instinctively to grab the phone before she ever dropped it, looking like a bomb had just gone off around her. Roy put the phone to his own ear.

As Lena moved forwards, Barry was zipping across the small kitchen at super-speed and catching her before she'd even started to fall. Hands on her shoulders, he leaned towards her, face concerned. "What's going on? Lena, talk to me. What's happened?"

"-Felicity," she choked out, looking up at him with sudden terror. The name seemed to draw her to her senses, because she started looking around frantically, attempting to move out of his arms. "-I- I've got to go, I've got to get home. I -"

"Easy," Barry soothed, stopping her from running and putting a hand on her face, tucking loose hair behind her ear. His hand started rubbing circles on her shoulder comfortingly, and his gaze was calm, controlling. "Breathe. What's happened to Felicity?"

Lena looked up, a tear rolling down her face. "Slade. He took her. God, Barry, I can't lose her – she can't -"

"Nothing's going to happen to Felicity," Barry said firmly, hugging her briefly before stepping back, trying to hide the flutter of fear in his own chest; Felicity was his friend, too. He looked at the girl in front of him; she was shaking. He'd seen her surprised, or stuck, but never terrified. It hurt him to see it. "I promise."

"You can get there fastest," she breathed, working it out in her head. Suddenly, what they had to do seemed clear. "Please, you have to go. You can get there in minutes – help them."

"I don't want to leave you here like this."

"Roy and I will get there as soon as we can, don't worry, I'll be there. I need to find my sister. But you can help, too." When he still looked unsure, glancing back over to Jay and Hal, who looked thoroughly confused by the conversation, matching expressions of unsure worry lighting up their features, Lena begged, "Please. Barry, I need your help. _Please_."

Barry nodded, turning his shoulder to look at Hal, "can you watch Central for a few days?"

"Of course," Hal replied, not missing a beat as he got to his feet. Despite his nonchalance and carefree attitude from the night before, he looked serious now, withdrawn in the set of his shoulders and lack of a smile. "Anything I can do to help."

"Thanks," Barry nodded, turning back to Lena. "I'll go. Just get there quickly and don't get into trouble – Slade might be after you, too."

"Just go," she begged, but he paused.

"I know it doesn't seem like the time," he said grabbing a box from the living room to bring back into the kitchen, putting it on the countertop in front of her, "but I think you should have this."

"What is it?"

"Your birthday present. I wasn't planning on giving it to you early, but given the circumstances . . . it might just save your life. Open it."

Frowning, Lena did as she was asked, opening the brown box and pushing the tissue paper inside it aside. Everyone gathered around as she pulled the expanse of black fabric was inside it, holding it up for them all to see. She almost smiled, and would have in any other situation.

Beside her, Barry explained. "It's Kevlar, bullet and shock proof and should keep you untouched during a fight. Plus, the hood should hide your identity – you wanted a costume – suit up. That's how you help your sister."

"Thank you," Lena said quietly, and took the box, disappearing from the room to change into it. It was her excuse; really, she just didn't want them to see her cry. And once she got into the spare bedroom at the Allen's, she did, leaning against the wall for a minute and letting the tears of frustration fall, before she pushed herself up and dressed. She cried for her sister, probably alone and scared at Slade's mercy, and she cried for the simple kindness of a friend.

It all fit like a glove. There were pants in the box too, made of the same material which she slipped on, putting her black boots back on over them. The jacket was by far the best part of the ensemble, however, shrugged on over a tank top and close fitting to her form, but not tight or heavy. It was thick, and she believed that it could stop a bullet, but it was fused with more elasticised material around her shoulders so it didn't restrict her movement. It was the same in the pants at the knees and hips. Across the suit there were thigh and hip holsters for guns and knives, a place to clip both her bow and a quiver on her back. All it all, it was like wearing nothing and a shield against the world all at once; the black hood hiding her face. In the face area was also a mask, but not like Oliver's – the one was pulled up across the mouth, leaving only like eyes exposed. She looked killer.

When she stormed back into the kitchen, her moment of weakness was gone. Now all she wanted was Slade Wilson's head on a spike. Ignoring the low whistle of appreciation Hal let out at seeing her, she glanced at them all resolutely, and they listened.

"Barry – you've got to go. You can help them search." He nodded, following her orders without question; but before he sped out of the door, he stopped beside her to squeeze her hand gently, planting a kiss on her forehead. Then he was gone.

With a communicative nod to Roy, they moved in synch to say quick goodbyes and grab anything important they'd taken – including collecting some of the weapons Lena kept hidden at Barry's house. She handed Roy a compound bow, taking a second one for herself and clipping it to her back alongside her quiver, adding two guns to the holsters on her thighs and stashing eight knives safely on her person. A walking weaponry between them, they were almost out of the door when she remembered something and paused, turning back to Hal and Jay, who were waiting confusedly still.

"Tell Wally we said sorry," she said loudly, drawing their attention. When they watched her, she looked genuinely apologetic. "Just . . . tell we're sorry we couldn't stay longer, but that we'll be back. We promised. Okay?"

"Yeah," Hal nodded. "Good luck."

She flashed him a brief, weak smile. "See ya around, Glowstick."

Then they were gone, the two teenagers leaving the house and walking for three streets until they found a decent sized alley to stop in. When they did, seeing a brick wall and being safely out of sight of any passing people, Roy looked at his best friend in concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"No," she shook her head. "You?"

"Not even remotely."

"Thought so. When we get to Starling – find Thea, I know you want to," Lena said, not sounding angry. As Roy tried to cut in and say that Felicity had to be priority, she held up a hand to silence him. "Don't argue, just do it. Thea's my friend too, and her mom being hurt is going to destroy her. She needs you. I want her to be okay, too."

"She'll be fine, Felicity might not be!" Roy shouted, not understanding her logic. Her empathy was admirable, but senseless. But when Lena flinched at his words, he felt immediately guilty for saying them, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder, which she winced away from.

"You think I don't know that? You think I haven't spent every second since the phone call picturing Felicity hurt or dying or being tortured?" Lena hissed, throat ragged. Glaring holes through him, Roy saw the unshed tears formed in her eyes, fiercely refusing to let them fall. "I know. But that doesn't mean I don't care about anyone else. If Felicity can be found, I'll find her – we both know I stand a better chance against Slade's army against the others."

"You're not invincible, Lena. Don't go running to get yourself killed."

"I'm not far off, and I'm not planning to. I'm going to save my sister."

"What about keeping your secret, huh?" he demanded, huffing out a breath as he faced her. "You said it – you said if they found out, they could be in danger; that we all could be."

"Felicity is in danger _now_!" Lena shouted back, baring her teeth at him. "I'm going to do whatever I have to do to get her home safely. Whatever the cost. Just . . . trust me. I'll get her out - I'm pretty hard to kill."

"That's funny, cause the way you told it to me, it seemed to be the opposite." Roy knew it was a low blow to make. At the cold words, the girl in front of him paled like she had been punched, paling and taking a step back. Roy sighed, "I'm sorry-"

"You're not," Lena cut in. She glared up at him, and he was pretty terrified of her right then; although she had pulled it down while they were walking, she now pulled up the bottom part of her mask, leaving only her intense eyes on show. "Listen to me, Roy Harper. Slade has my sister and if I find him," she paused, tilting her head in honesty, "I'll _fucking_ skin him. But there's always going to be an aftermath, and Thea needs you – I don't. Find her. Make her better. Try and circle back to the others in a few hours; if they see you too soon it'll look suspicious."

Roy thought about it for a minute before nodding. "If you get yourself killed, I'm gonna be pissed."

"Understood."

"So . . . what now?" he asked, guessing but not wanting to ask directly.

"I break my own rules," Lena said decisively, the dangerous look back in her eyes again. She glanced at him, holding out a hand, which he took without question. "I know I said I'd never use it, but desperate times . . . just hold on tight, close your mouth and eyes and try not to puke. It can be a little disorientating, so consider yourself warned. Three steps, then jump. Ready?"

Roy only nodded once, preparing himself to follow all the instructions perfectly. He wasn't scared, but it wasn't something he expected to do today. When Lena squeezed his hand, they moved together, running for three steps before jumping into midair – and disappearing in a flash of green light.

* * *

**A/N: **_so this chapter turned into one huge scene, I apologise. Lena finally reveals her powers, and I hope nobody's disappointed. Lots more Felicity next chapter & a big announcement: after the next two chapters, there will either be a month long hiatus for this fic or a break & then a sequel. How long the break is depends on reviews, how much time I have with college, whether or not I get a job with more hours etc. It leaves off in a cliffhanger place, enough to hopefully keep you interested.** the last chapter will be called 'The masks we wear'.**_


	32. Weak

** 'Weak'**

Felicity woke up slowly. She had no idea how long she had been out, the world coming back to her in senses: first she could hear things around her, loud noises and talking; then she became aware of the aching in her limbs, centred on her face and stomach, and the hard surface beneath her. When she finally opened her eyes, she was not surprised to find her hands tied behind her back, lying on the ground. There was a bright light above, so she blinked a few times for her eyes to adjust, although she could see little without her glasses, which only made her breathing hitch in fear.

And yes, she was scared. Of course she was. She had been kidnapped by a homicidal, psychotic sword-wielding maniac who hated her boyfriend's guts with a passion and would probably spill hers without a second thought just to get a reaction. She was bloody terrified.

But Felicity Smoak, sharp-witted as steel with just as much of a bite, refused to let it show. It wouldn't stop her. Forcing herself into a sitting position against the exposed wall behind her, she grunted from the effort but managed it, now glancing around at the space in front of her and hoping she hadn't been noticed yet. Blessedly, her legs were unbound and allowed her to move with minimal effort, although she still wore a skirt and heels, which she was regretting now. Heels were noisy to walk in, and she couldn't undo the straps without the use of her hands – which made any plans about her escaping dash from her mind. They'd hear her a mile away as soon as she stood.

Instead, she focused her thoughts elsewhere. Injuries? She wiggled her toes and gathered that since she'd been able to move without too much pain, nothing could be broken. There was a dull ache in her hands; most likely from the beating she'd given out to the men she'd held off – the night before? Longer? She had no idea how much time had passed. Her side was hurting too, but it was too blurry to really see when she looked down: there were dark bruises on her arm, like she had been carried roughly. Some kidnappers just had no regard to politeness. All in all, she wasn't too bad. Scared and alone, but physically coping.

That was until a dark figure approached her: she could see it coming, but couldn't move or distinguish who it was, although she could guess. When it got closer she tensed herself against the wall, not knowing what to expect, and physically winced away when the figure knelt down in front of her and reached out.

"Now, Miss Smoak, you're only hurting yourself," Slade drawled, reaching forwards again despite her moving her head, something in his hands – Felicity blinked when her glasses were placed on her nose, the world suddenly clear around her. He was still too close for comfort kneeling in front of her, and he smiled at her confusion, an upturn of his bristled lip which held no real warmth. There was victory in his eyes that she was his prisoner, but that was all. "You see – much better."

"What do you want, Slade?" she demanded, as he got to his feet and loomed above her, although Felicity was glancing past him to her surroundings at the same time. Now she could see, it was clear they were indoors, a huge space spreading out in front of her, like a warehouse or factory. There were men everywhere, too – at least forty, all Mirikuru-fuelled warriors. Her friends wouldn't stand a chance against a force like this alone. She started to hope they didn't find her.

"You know the answer to that, Miss Smoak. Or should I call you Felicity?"

"I'd rather you didn't call me anything," she said through gritted teeth. Felicity was always against hating people but God, she hated Slade Wilson. "But Miss Smoak will do. Only friends can call me Felicity."

"I can see why he likes you," Slade laughed down at her. "But as you learned last night, I don't like people disrespecting me."

He hit her then, hard, across the face. Felicity slid down the wall a little at the impact, cheek bursting into life at the pain. She didn't cry out, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself; she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. It was clear Slade had expected a reaction, for his face fell from a self-satisfied smirk to blankness as she only breathed for a moment before spitting out blood onto the floor beside her, looking back up at him calmly.

She asked again, but there was pity in her eyes, not fear. "Why are you doing this? To hurt Oliver?"

"And to hurt _you_."

"M-me? Why do you want to hurt me?"

"The sins of the father . . ." Slade said nostalgically, finally looking away from her. When he looked back, his gaze was cold. Felicity had no time to question the words, mouth hanging open in confusion until Slade stooped to drag her to her feet. Once he was standing, he kept a hand on her elbow and started to drag her across the room with him. "I think it's time we took a little walk, _Felicity_."

"Where are we going?" she asked, still looking around. On the wall to her left was the logo of the Starling City Police Department, peeling and faded; the whole placed had a neglected feeling, like it had been abandoned for some time.

"For a tour. Nice place, is it not? Useful, unnoticed, filled with old issue police equipment – I was lucky to find it."

"What is it?"

"The old SCPD training facility," Slade answered briskly, as they crossed through a doorway into a second room, much larger than the first one. There were rows marked on the floor, and targets at one end of the room – a firing range. It didn't look like it had been used in a while. "But this is my favourite room – a place of killing," Slade said, suddenly throwing Felicity to the ground. Not able to catch herself with her hands, she hit the ground fall; hitting her chin hard against the concrete and feeling her mouth fill with blood. Once again, she did not cry out, just pulled her ankles up to her chest and rolled so she was sitting again, facing him. It was the only form of defiance she had left.

"I'm still not afraid of you, Slade."

"You will be," he answered, looking away from her and gesturing around the world, "I thought you might want to get used to it here. This room will be yours alone for the next few hours – but rest assured, there is no way out. Tonight, this will be your room of execution."

Although her throat tightened at the words, Felicity fought to keep her face impassive, "I refuse to believe that. There's still hope. You can't take that from me."

"I beg to differ. Once I've killed your sister in front of you, we will see how much hope you have left."

"Lena," Felicity breathed, finally looking scared. "You can't hurt her - she's not here."

"Do you really think she'd stay away while her sister is captive?" Slade said, smugness in his tone as he started to pace in front of her. She was finally afraid, that was his victory, his success. He'd just worked out exactly what buttons to push. When Felicity's face dropped at the comment, knowing it was true, he went on, "First, I take away your hope. Then I take away Oliver's by killing you. I'll see you in a few hours, Felicity."

Slade was walking away from her in seconds, Felicity processing the information and getting to her feet as quickly as she could, chasing after him.

"No!" Felicity shouted, voice increasing in desperation and height. She stumbled after him, falling to one knee before pushing herself back up, but by the time she got to the door it was shut. She kicked out at it, slamming her shoulder against the wood. "Don't you dare touch her! No, please. _Please_!"

Felicity kicked and slammed at the door until the heel on her left shoe was broken and her voice was ragged, her eyes wet. She couldn't brush away the tears, so let them fall freely, coating her cheeks quickly and leaving the residue on her face, a sign of her weakness. Eventually, she stayed against the door and let out a scream, sinking to her knees and then sitting on the floor, against the door. She couldn't let Slade hurt her little sister . . . but she was stuck; she couldn't save her either. She couldn't even save herself. As she collapsed, Felicity finally allowed herself to cry. The tears tasted bitter as she sobbed for the unfairness of it all, her own short life only a part of it – there was so much she'd never get to do. And if she was going to die tonight, she did not want to see Lena died first. A world without her sister in it would be unbearable, even if it were only for a few miserable moments before her own life ended.

On the dusty floor of the abandoned firing range, Felicity pulled her knees up to her chest and sobbed.

* * *

Roy felt his feet touch solid ground three times before they stopped for good, both of them stumbling forwards from impact; however he fell on his elbows while Lena caught her balance, more used to the feeling. On the ground, Roy threw up. Damn, that really wasn't fun. When he wiped his mouth on the back of his hoodie and looked up she was waiting, offering him a sympathetic hand.

"Don't worry, I threw up the first time, too," she told him as she helped him up. "Right – you'd better get going. Remember what I said: find Thea."

"What are you going to do?" he asked, concerned.

"There's a few places I know of that Slade might be, I'm going to check them out."

"Be careful, and please, if you find them – call Oliver. Don't go in alone, it won't help Felicity," Roy told her sternly, making her meet his eye and nod before he let her go. She clapped him on the shoulder as she went, taking a step and them jumping into oblivion once more, vanishing right in front of his eyes. Teleportation. He supposed he'd have to get used to it.

* * *

Lena spent a few hours checking everywhere she knew Slade had previously operated from – old warehouses, safe houses, even the docks – systematically searching them and narrowing down the list of suspected places she had. She did not go to see the others – it would only raise questions as to how she'd got back to Starling so quickly, and she planned to keep her skill-set to herself. She hadn't used her powers in months; they disgusted her – but if it meant saving her sister, she'd reveal them in a heartbeat.

She zapped around the city in bursts of light, knowing the electro-pulses they set off might gain her some unwanted attention, until she finally got to the old police training building. At this point she was pretty much clutching at straws, resigning herself to having to go and see if Oliver had found anything when she noticed a shadow. She had been teleporting to a hundred yards or so away from the places she'd been investigating, landing on rooftops or in alleyways to go unnoticed. There was no point in losing the element of surprise by appearing right on the doorstep, after all. This time, she was on the roof of a building quite a distance away, so almost missed it – but some movement caught her eye miraculously.

Sharply, she turned to see a man become a shadow outside the building. It wasn't hard, since it was getting dark already, the sky outside the shade of indigo which could turn to black in minutes. It was the time of year where sunset caught up on you too fast. When she looked closer, silently praising her eyesight as a marksman for being able to see so far, she noticed shifts in the shadows all around the building; men were patrolling the perimeter. They were hidden well, sticking to the parts of the building in shadow so they couldn't be seen at a casual glance. It was clever, but sent off red flags in Lena's mind: Slade was here. She was sure of it.

Most of her wanted to storm in there and take the first shot at Slade Wilson she had right then, but she remembered her promise to Roy and made herself wait. Lena Smoak kept her promises, if anything. She pulled out her phone and called Oliver, who answered immediately.

"Lena! Are you o-"

"I've found him," she cut him off. "The old police training academy. If you don't know where it is, you'd better call your detective friend."

"What?" Oliver asked, voice a strained hopeful. "How do you know this?"

"I'm looking at it, there are men patrolling outside. Slade's here. So is my sister. Are you coming, or what?"

"Yes! Stay where you are, do _not_ go in alone, Lena."

"That depends on how quickly you get here," she replied, hanging up. She turned her phone off quickly, knowing he was likely to call her back and tell her not to go in. Like she'd listen anyway. A hint of guilt built up in her stomach as she began to check through her supplies, counting how many explosive arrows she had and that she had a few spare cartridges for her guns. She had technically kept her promise – it had been to call, not wait.

Taking a breath, she pulled her bow tight and started taking out the patrol guards around the building, hitting each one with deadly accuracy with an arrow. There was nobody to hide her skills from; she didn't care anymore. Her sister needed saving, and she was going in hard, not caring about the consequences.

* * *

By the time Oliver and his team got to the training facility, having to physically stop Barry from rushing ahead to help Lena by pointing out that they were safer in a team, the fight was already raging on inside. Oliver, Sara and Barry had suited up, Roy following them in a hoodie, Diggle in a Kevlar vest, and detective Lance with a gun and a walkie-talkie. They were outnumbered, but between them had enough powers and skills to take on a small army – which is exactly what they faced.

The plan had been to re-group with Lena and make a plan outside but when they got there, the gunfire and flashes from inside the building told them that their friend had already gone in so fearing the worse, Oliver charged in arrows flying, his team right behind him.

The guards outside had been conveniently taken out for them, leaving their entrance clear; Oliver took the lead as they burst through the front doors in formation – but they all stopped in confusion at what they saw behind them.

Lena stood in the middle of an army. At least eight men had already been taken out and lay scattered on the floor, while she took on the rest – and seemed to be winning. As they entered she roundhouse kicked a Mirikuru soldier before throwing her last knife across the room towards another approaching her, embedding it in his chest. The man went down but was replaced by two more, blows from which she dodged before being knocked off her feet but as they moved forwards to help her, she pulled an arrow in her bow and sent it up into the roof; it exploded on impact and brought debris down on the men attacking her as she rolled easily away before flipping back on to her feet. It was scary to see, the uncounted precision she moved with nothing they had ever seen from her before, and in her new suit, she looked like a ninja, a force to be reckoned with.

Out of arrows, she used her bow as a bungee to better punch one man in the face, also out of bullets and knives. It seemed she'd have to get her hands dirty. It was something she had been trying to avoid – hand to hand combat was too close range for her liking, not that it was a problem, but these warriors were hard to kill without a weapon; she'd need to start snapping necks. She hated it, the sound of the crunches stuck with her for hours.

_Unless I can get another weapon_, Lena thought, not even having noticed her friend's arrival. They were still standing in the door, matching looks of shock on all of their faces.

When the next man came towards her, she smiled when she saw a katana attached to his back. It was perfect. Waiting for him to attack, she knocked his knees out from under him and vaulted over his shoulder, fingers wrapping around the sword as she did. When she stood again, she held the sword like it was an extension of her arm, familiar and natural with it, spinning it around in her hands gracefully as she levelled her stance to attack.

But before she could even bring down her sword, an arrow flew past her – into the chest of a second soldier running at her from behind – so her gaze followed it's trajectory to where Oliver and the others stood in the doorway. Pulling down the bottom part of her hood to expose her face, she shouted over, "You took your time!"

Then the entire team fought together. Although he wanted to go and search for Felicity immediately, Oliver forced himself to wait, taking out the targets running towards doorways or on higher platforms of the room, the ones only he could hit with his arrows. Barry started to run the perimeter and pick off any stragglers – they couldn't have anyone raising any alarms. He was a red blur as he ran around the edge of the room and stopped any soldiers from getting to doorways, isolating their fight to that location. Diggle stayed beside Oliver, firearm out and shooting anyone who got too close. Roy and Sara joined Lena in the middle of the action, the three of them settling into a good old-fashioned fistfight; the two fresh fighters taking over for a moment and giving Lena a chance to catch her breath, sheltered between the two. Roy wore a mask and she grinned at him as he let loose several arrows into the crowd, his aim a lot better than it had been – but he was a brawler at his best, and it was when he broke off to barrel into oncoming attackers that he did the most damage. Sara did what she always did – kick ass. Whoever and whatever stood in her way she took out systematically and quickly; after a moment Lena settled in well beside her, but did not use the sword she carried. She would kick a man and send him in the younger girl's direction, the two of them taking on multiple opponents at a time and never showing the strain of it.

After a while of them all fighting like that, a system, a unit – the soldiers began to step back, retreating.

"Think they've had enough?" Lena asked, looking to Oliver. There was a cut above her eyebrow. "You really did show up late to the party."

She expected one of them to reply, but instead, a gravelly laugh rang out from behind her. Lena turned sharply to see Slade Wilson standing in the doorway, wearing body armour aside from his mask and looking over at them all. "That they did," he agreed with her comment, smiling without any warmth, but some degree of admiration. He looked at Lena pointedly as he spoke, "I'm impressed with your fighting, Miss Smoak. It is a shame not to see you use that sword; maybe you would make a worthy opponent. But that's enough now – if you want to see your sister alive again, I sincerely suggest you all follow me – without killing another of my men."

"Don't you dare threaten -" Lena started ferociously, taking a few steps towards him, but Oliver's voice cut her short.

"Okay, Slade," he said loudly, making a show of putting his bow down. "We'll come, just don't hurt Felicity – this isn't her fight. Don't make her a victim of our feud. Too many have already suffered for it."

"I disagree, Mr. Queen. I'd argue not enough have suffered," Slade said, standing aside so they could pass and waiting until Oliver himself walked past to add, "not yet."

They all walked single file into the next room, what was left of Slade's goon leering at them and boxing them in as they passed. As they walked, Barry caught up to Lena, taking the fingers of her hand not holding the sword and squeezing it comfortingly; a small gesture unnoticed in their defeat. They were truly defeated for now – they couldn't fight back until they saw Felicity and had a plan. After a moment, her blood-stained fingers squeezed back before she let go as the other room came fully into view. It was some kind of firing range, old targets at one end of the dusty room, where Slade stood directly in front of them, his army caging them in from behind. Pissed that he hadn't been the one to deal Slade such a loss of men, Oliver passed the rest of his team as he walked to stand in front of them, facing his old friend; now his enemy, but wearing the face of someone who had once called him brother. Slade was the biggest regret of his life.

Once they were all inside, Slade grinned cruelly and stepped aside –to grab Felicity, standing with a sword to her throat. Her face was bloody, beaten, and there were dried and fresh tears mingling on her terrified face. It looked as if she was trying to tell them something, but was gagged as well as bound, so they could only hear faint screams from her, each one a sharp pain in Oliver's chest. But she was alive.

Behind him, he heard a scuffle, and he twisted to see both Barry and Roy having to hold Lena back, eyes only on her sister and furious. He understood; he felt exactly the same. In his anger, he turned back to Slade, who was waiting patiently.

"Let her go, Wilson. It's me you want."

"That is true – though not entirely," Slade said. He made sure to keep his weapon trained on Felicity at all times, trusting none of them would make a move while she was in that position. "But she has also been a part of my plans, long before you loved her – and yes, I know about that. Like you deserve love after Shado. Felicity Smoak has been on my radar since before she joined your little crusade – since I got back from the Island. Her sister too, I have watched for years. They are as much a part of my revenge as you are."

"What?" Oliver blinked, confused. "What are you talking about, Slade? They have nothing to do with anything – they're innocent!"

"They are not!" Slade roared back, losing it for a minute. After a pause in which he composed himself, he went on maliciously, "but before I destroy them, you must understand why. So I am going to tell you everything you don't know about your _precious Felicity_." He paused, turning to look Oliver dead in the eye for a final time, "Including who her real father is."

* * *

**A/N: **_so the drama sets in. this is a significant point in the story and I felt it would be a good place to take a break, the chapter after this being the last one before the brief hiatus I mentioned. tell me what you think! There's been less reviews than usual lately so please keep sending me things you'd like to see and DC characters to include when the justice league is formed after the break. thanks a bunch, as always :)**  
**_


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